


Peter's New Step-Bother

by Bowtiez



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bad Skip Wescott, Bonding, Bullied Peter Parker, Character Development, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Everyone is okay though!, F/M, Family Bonding, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffyfest, Harley Keener Being An Asshole, Harley Keener is Pepper Pott's Biological Child, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Kid Fic, Kid Peter Parker, Mentioned Skip Westcott, New Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Brat, Peter is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Real World Problems, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Step-siblings, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, very lowkey tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 91,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22310530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowtiez/pseuds/Bowtiez
Summary: Peter Stark is content in his life. He's got a dad, friends, aunts and uncles. It's good. He's fine. He goes to a nice fancy school, and only sort of gets picked on. He doesn't want anything to change.So, when Peter's dad introduces him to his new girlfriend, and then to her son, who happens to be one of the kids who picks on Peter at school, he's not so sure what to think. He'll have to figure out how all this is gonna work- and where he really belongs... But, well, he will figure it out. Eventually.or,The step-parents and step-siblings AU no one asked for! Filled with cute fluff, some angst-y goodness, and Tony and Pepper being good parents! Also lots of Peter and Harley trying to figure out how to co-exist in their new big family. (Slow Burn)
Relationships: Harley Keener & Pepper Potts, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 336
Kudos: 935





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just me indulging in a fic I’ve been thinking about for a while. Not sure who’ll be interested but it will be quite a slowburn of bonding, fluff and angst. I love this idea, so I’m going to write it. Also, I’m writing this to kind of work on romantic writing (since I suck at that) but also have room to focus on how Tony and Pepper are such great parents. (This'll mostly be from Peter's perspective, but there will be other perspective's sprinkled in.)
> 
> Inspiration behind this story comes from _jwriter819_ ’s fic _Riding the Waves_ (I high recommend reading it!). It’s kind of the same no super-powers universe, but it’s completely different at the same time. Just giving credit where it’s due! They’ve been super nice to me, and I 10/10 recommend reading their fics.

The first time Peter met Harley was when he was in Kindergarten. The boy, three years older, was in the third grade. Peter hadn’t thought much of that, as he climbed up the jungle gym with Ned and MJ by his side. The boy, at the top with his friends, laughed when Peter lost his footing and almost fell off. 

Peter had almost cried, because they were laughing at him. He glanced back at his new friends, tilting his head. They both glared at the group of older boys, so Peter decided he should continue up the playground. 

However, he did cry when the leader of the group, who Peter would soon learn was named Flash, shoved him when he neared the top, making him topple to the ground. 

Harley had blinked at him, mouth in a straight line as the others in their group laughed at the crying kindergartener. The boy had watched, eyebrows furrowed as a teacher on playground duty hurried to Peter, pulling him up and escorting him and his two friends to the office to get his new scraps bandaged. 

That had been the first time Peter Stark had met Harley Potts. 

\---- 

Peter liked his life. It was a nice life- a nice existence. 

He had everything he could ever want. A daddy who loved him loads, and aunts and uncles. 

He lived in a nice house just outside of Manhattan. It was big, with loads of bedrooms for when his aunts and uncles came to stay with them. He had toys and a cool bedroom- bunkbeds for when Ned came to sleepover. He had loads and loads of Legos, and other cool toys his daddy gets for him. 

Then, there was the garage, where he and his daddy spent loads of time tinkering on things. 

His daddy owned two businesses, Stark Industries which did a bunch of boring business stuff, and a mechanics shop, which Peter liked much more. Peter wasn’t into cars like his daddy was, although he knew how to take apart an engine and reassemble it, just like his daddy had taught him. 

He was more excited by the tools that were kept at the shop- ones too big or dangerous for daddy to keep in the garage. There was loads of scrap metal for building with and cool things to see. 

Peter wasn’t quite sure how much money his daddy actually had, but he knew it was a lot. Both his dad’s companies had been on the news multiple times, and, sometimes they were even on the news- or, daddy was at least. 

Peter thought that was pretty awesome. None of his friend’s daddies did anything like his did. 

Peter also liked his school a lot. He had his friends there- well, he mostly just had Ned, but he liked MJ a lot too. MJ was nice, and cool, and they’d always hang out together, just the three of them. Then there were friends like Harry, who he knew and played with sometimes, but they’d never come to his house before. 

He liked his bus ride to school too- it was long, but they crossed a bridge and that was always fun. Plus, the bus driver was always super nice to him. And he got first dibs on a seat because he was always the first kid on the bus. 

Of course, there were some things he didn’t like too much. 

One of the bigger things he didn’t like was Skip. Peter didn’t like him at all. Peter didn’t like the games that they played when his daddy would be gone for the evening at work. Thankfully, he didn’t see Skip very often, since usually one of Peter’s aunts or uncles, or family friends could come stay with him while his dad was gone. Playing with Skip scared him, but Peter didn’t want to worry his daddy, when his dad was already super busy. 

And... and there was Harley and Flash and their group of friends. 

Peter didn’t like them. And they didn’t seem to like him. The two fifth graders and their group of friends were always teasing him and picking on him at recess. Sometimes Flash would shove him, or knock him over- or Harley would call him a mean name, but Peter never told. It wasn’t worth telling. 

The boy wasn’t too sure why they picked on him. He’d never done anything to them. He just accepted that they didn’t like him. Not everyone was going to like him, that was something his dad had told him. 

Most of all, Peter didn’t like how busy his dad was. Daddy was always super busy. Peter knew it was because he had two companies to be running, but that didn’t mean that Peter didn’t miss him when he was working past dinner, or gone before Peter woke up in the morning. 

Sometimes he really missed his daddy. 

His dad tried to make time for him, Peter knew, but the man had a lot to do... and sometimes Peter just got brushed onto the back burner. He knew his dad never means to do it, so if he forgets to attend Peter’s spelling bee, it’s not really a big deal. 

Lately though, his dad had been going out a lot more in the evening. Peter isn’t too sure why, because he’s never had so many meetings during the week... and if some of his uncles, who work with his daddy weren’t at the meetings too, he didn't know where his daddy was going. 

“Uncle Rhodey?” Peter asked slowly as we walked into the kitchen. It was yet another night of his dad being gone for dinner, and probably past his bedtime. The man in question was stood at the stove, stirring a boiling pot of boxed macaroni and cheese pasta, turned to look at Peter. 

It was the third day this week that his daddy was away until after he goes to bed. 

“What’s up, bud?” the man tilts his head at Peter. The boy shuffled on his feet for a second before moving into the kitchen and seating himself at the kitchen island, where he’d watch his dad make omelets in the mornings- or he would when his dad was here. 

“Where’s daddy?” Peter asked after pulling himself into his chair. “He’s... he’s never had this many meetings before.” _And it’s been going on for months now_ , the boy didn’t add. This was the _third_ meeting this week, Peter also didn’t mention that. 

“There haven’t been any meetings recently,” Rhodey’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“There haven't?” Peter blinked. 

“No,” Rhodey shook his head, “who told you he was in meetings?” 

No one had told him anything. Peter had just assumed. That was usually the only thing that would be taking his dad away from him. Meetings, and work- and every once and a while, a business trip. 

Peter shrugged in response to the man’s question, lowering his gaze to the counter top in front of him, where he absently drew his finger back and forth along the marble. 

“Peter...” Rhodey’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, “your daddy hasn’t been going to meetings.” 

The boy lifted his attention to his uncle, frowning thoughtfully. 

“Where’s he been then?” 

“He’s been...” the man bit his lip, turning to look at the mac and cheese before looking back at Peter, “he’s been going on dates, Pete.” 

_Dates_. He’s known people who go on dates. Uncle Rhodey has, and aunt Natasha. Steve and Bucky go on dates all the time- but his daddy has never... 

“Dates with who?” Peter asked slowly. He bit the inside of his cheek as the man turned back to the pot of pasta; draining it in the sink and then adding the cheese powder, milk and butter as the directions specified. 

The man didn’t respond at first, the only noises in the kitchen were those of water filtering down the drain and the sounds of Rhodey mixing the mac and cheese together. Peter watched silently as the man pulled a plate from the cupboard and started spooning things from trays and pots on the stovetop onto it. 

Then, with a sigh, the man finally spoke, “listen, Bud, I think this is something you should ask your dad. It’s not mine to share with you.” 

The man set the plate, contents being a breaded chicken breast cut up in small pieces, mac and cheese and broccoli, on the counter in front of Peter, before turning away to take care of the dishes. A subtle ‘end of conversation’ Peter had gotten more times in his life than he can count. 

The boy picked up his fork, taking a bite of the mac and cheese, elbow settled on the table and his cheek falling against his fist. What was his daddy up too? 

\---- 

His dad came home late. Peter rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glancing towards his Star Wars alarm clock. At was a bit after ten o’clock. The boy yawned tiredly, slipping his book under his pillow but leaving his flashlight on. If he turned it off, he’d fall asleep. 

Peter wasn’t used to being awake this late at night. Even on weekends his daddy like him in bed before nine thirty. And on school nights, it was always eight o’clock- unless he’d been super good or had loads of candy, then he could sometimes push it to eight thirty. 

The house had been quiet, well, besides Rhodey, who had been watching some tv show for past two hours since putting Peter to bed at eight. 

Peter sat up in his bed, bear snuggled against his chest. There was a possibility he could get in trouble, but he didn’t think he would. Daddy didn’t usually get mad for stuff like this. Or, he hasn’t before, because Peter doesn’t really do this. 

But today, he just wanted to see his daddy. He hadn’t seen him in forever; since yesterday morning _at least_. That’s practically forever. 

The door opening caught Peter’s attention. He wasn’t going to get out of bed, but he wasn’t going to fall asleep either. He was too tired to move, but to curious to fall asleep. He'd wait for his daddy to come check on him, like he does every night. 

Downstairs, the television shut off as Tony entered the house, grinning at his friend. 

“Hey, man, how was it?” Rhodey asked, sitting up from where he’d been slouched over on his friends incredibly comfortable couch, and stretching his tired joints. 

“It was perfect,” the man sighed happily, sitting beside his friend, kicking his feet up on the coffee table with a dopey little smile on his face that almost made his best friend laugh, “she’s so great, Rhodes, I mean, she’s practically perfect.” 

“I’m happy for you,” Rhodey smiled at his long-time best friend, expressing his happiness, but then he chewed his bottom lip, thinking back to his conversation with Peter. He frowned lightly, then looked towards Tony, catching the man’s eye before muttering a soft, “just... you know, don’t forget about Pete.” 

“Forget about him?” Tony’s voice rang in surprise- bordering on _offended_ as he shot his attention to his best friend. “Did he say something to you? I can’t... I could never, you know that.” 

The thought of his boy thinking he could forget about him tugged at his heart strings. Peter was his everything. 

“I know that,” Rhodey agreed in response, “but does he? He was just... y’know, he was asking about you. Thought you’ve been at meetings and stuff.” 

“I see,” Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face, “he’s my number one, man. No one can replace that kid; I love him to death.” 

“I know,” Rhodey laughed, “but he’s seven, and seven-year-old's have weird ways of thinkin’.” 

“Yeah,” Tony nodded in agreement. There had been a couple things the seven-year-old had said that left Tony clueless. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. During breakfast. I think...” the man paused, biting his bottom lip before blowing out a slow breath, “I think it might be time to introduce them?” 

“It’s that... serious?” Rhodey questioned, a bit shocked, “that’s... I mean, are you sure? It’s one thing to tell Pete, but it’s another entirely to actually introduce him to her.” 

“I think this is actually getting serious, Rhodey...” Tony agreed with a nervous smile, attention on his best friend, “I really like her- and, I mean, she likes me too. She’s got a kid a bit older than Pete. We’ve been dating for months, I think it’s time.” 

“It’s up to you,” Rhodey shrugged, “your kid, your life. Just... make sure everything’s good with him. This can really stress a kid out- you know his anxiety.” 

“Of course,” Tony agreed instantly, “Peter comes first. And he always will. If he doesn’t... if he doesn’t like her, then that’s it.” There was a pause. “She’s amazing though, so I don’t think that’s really a problem.” 

They talked a little more about Tony’s date, and Rhodey’s evening with Peter. It was about an hour later that Rhodey stood to leave. Tony stood, following his friend to the door, to see him out. 

Tony stepped back into the house a couple minutes later. He turned the lock after shutting the door. He was just so happy. His date with Pepper had gone amazingly well. She was perfect. Perfect for him, and perfect for his Peter. 

He knew he’d been seeing her a lot recently, but he really liked her. He really wanted this to work out. He was sure that she was staying around- and it was time to introduce Peter to her and her son. 

The man made his way into the kitchen, snorting to himself when seeing Rhodey had basically already cleaned everything. He moved to the sink, putting away the dishes that were finished air drying. He tidied up a little more, clearing some of Peter’s little toys off the kitchen island and putting Peter’s homework away in his backpack, then preparing his son’s lunch for the following day. 

It was just before eleven when he decided to head upstairs. 

Despite knowing that he trusted Rhodey, and all his friends with his son, the man still felt the pull to check on his boy. He needed to make sure Peter was okay before he could head off to bed himself. 

Tony walked up the stairs, slowly turning towards Peter’s room, where he noticed a stream of light coming from under the seven-year-old's room. Peter had a tendency to read past his bedtime, and no matter where Tony hid the flashlights, the boy always managed to find them. 

Tony sighed to himself, pulling the door open quietly. The dull light of the flashlight lit up Peter’s slouched over frame. The boy was asleep sitting up. His head was lulled against the wall, and his stuffed bear held in his lap. Tony smiled to himself, moving into the room. 

The movements startled Peter from his half-asleep state. 

“Oh,” Peter sighed, “Dah,” the boy yawned, “Dah-ddy.” 

“It’s okay, honey,” Tony whispered as he moved up the stairs, “what’re you doing up, Bambino?” 

“Missed you,” Peter explained shortly, wrapping his arms around his dad’s neck as Tony settled beside him on the bed. The man pulled his son into his lap, pressing a kiss to Peter’s curls covered forehead. 

“Aw, I missed you too, baby.” Tony felt his head flutter in his chest and he held his boy just a little tighter. “You should be asleep though, baby. It’s very late, and you’ve got school tomorrow.” 

“Wanna... wanted to know about your date,” Peter hummed drowsily, curling his head under Tony’s chin. 

“My date?” the man repeated in surprise, “what do you wanna know, honey?” 

The man was a little shocked to be having this conversation now, while Peter was half asleep, but he went with it. If Peter had been waiting up for him, he was obviously thinking something. 

“Wanna... where’d you go?” Peter asked sleepily as Tony stood up with Peter, pulling his son’s Star Wars bedsheets back and carefully laying the boy down. When Peter was laying, eyes barely open, the man slipped his bear in beside the boy, then sat himself on the edge of the bed to car his fingers through Peter’s hair. 

“I went to a little restaurant,” the man hummed, hoping to lull Peter to sleep at this point. Peter being grumpy tomorrow was inevitable at this point. “They had breadsticks and some pasta. Maybe we can go there sometime.” 

“Mm’yeah,” Peter sighed, forehead pushing against Tony’s thigh as the man continued brushing his fingers through Peter’s hair, “w-who, who’d ya go wiff, daddy?” 

“I went with my friend Pepper,” the man bit his bottom lip, now moving his hand to run up and down Peter’s spine. It was a sure-fire way to get the boy to sleep, and it had been since he was born. “We had such a nice time, baby. I really like her,” Tony whispered. 

Peter’s breaths had evened out now, so Tony knew he was asleep. That didn’t mean he was going to move just yet. The man loved moments like this- just watching his son’s chest rise and fall with even breaths. 

Tony didn’t make it to his own bed until just past twelve, but it was fine. 

\---- 

That next morning Tony was awake to make pancakes for breakfast. It was one of Peter’s favorite breakfasts, and Tony thought that he’d need to have something treat-like to finally be dropping the ‘girlfriend bomb’ on his son. 

Tony didn’t really know how Peter was going to react to this. Tony had never... he’d never introduced Peter to anyone. Nothing had ever lasted long enough for the thought to even be relevant. One-night stands and weekend getaways were the most he usually did- and Peter didn’t know about those. As far as the boy was concerned, Tony had never had a serious love interest. 

Pepper wasn’t like that though. 

When six-fifteen hit, the man moved upstairs to wake his boy. He’d let Peter sleep an extra fifteen minutes, though he was sure the boy would still be irritated and grumpy. 

As expected, Peter rolled out of bed with a grumble. 

It took twenty minutes for the seven-year-old to go about his morning routine of getting dressed, brushing his teeth and hair and taking care of his bathroom routine. 

Tony had a plate of chocolate chip pancakes waiting at his usual kitchen island placement. Tony figured the boy could use the chocolate pick-me-up after staying up late. 

“Good morning, Bambino,” Tony smiled at the boy pulling himself into his chair. 

“G’mornin’, Daddy,” Peter replied, a tiny bit more chipper than he had been when he first woke up. It wasn’t much, but it was something. The man watched his son fork at his pancakes for a second before finally clearing his throat. 

“So, what were you doing awake after bedtime? I know uncle Rhodey put you to bed on time, young man.” 

Peter winced lightly at that, frowning down at his pancakes. 

“W-wanted to make sure you got home,” the boy mumbled, “you... you’ve never... you don’t date, Daddy.” 

It was Tony’s turn to look down at his meal now. He blew out a breath, before giving his son a small smile. Peter was too cute sometimes 

“That’s very sweet of you, honey, but you know you have to go to bed at bedtime, or else you’ll be grumpy and tired through the day.” 

“M’not grumpy,” Peter scowled cutely, proving the man’s point- not that Tony was going to point that out. “You didn’t tell me you were goin’ on dates, Daddy,” Peter accused, dropping his fork to his plate and crossing his arms across his chest. 

“I know, Bambino,” Tony frowned, moving to sit on the stool beside Peter’s. He pulled the boy into his lap, then slid Peter’s plate over in front of him too so Peter could continue to eat. “We can talk now. Do you know what a date is?” 

“Like a play date?” Peter questioned, picking his fork up again and forking a piece of pancake into his mouth, “like me’n’Ned do?” 

“Kind of,” Tony hummed, "it’s something adults do though. We... we, well, yes. I suppose it’s just like your play dates with Ned, except we talk about grown up things and don’t play. It’s like a business meeting.” The man chuckled at Peter’s sour face at the description, “see, bud, when an adult likes another adult, they take them out to a movie, or to a restaurant for dinner. That’s where they can get to know each other without other people around.” 

“In private?” Peter turned slightly to look at his dad. “You like someone, Daddy?” 

“Yes,” the man nodded, “I do really like her, Pete.” 

Peter seemed to think that over as he took another bite of his pancakes. Tony watched his son process it, waiting patiently for any questions Peter could have. 

“Do you... do you like _like_ her, Daddy?” 

The man restrained from laughing at the kid’s serious question. He took a breath before nuzzling his nose into Peter’s curls and whispering a soft, “I do, Pete. I do like _like_ her.” 

Peter nodded thoughtfully. 

“Is she nice?” 

“She’s very nice. You know, she really wants to meet you, is that something you’d like, Pete?” Tony asked carefully, “we can go to the playground, or maybe the zoo or something? How does that sound?” 

“I love the zoo!” Peter squealed. He turned in his dad’s lap to grin at him, eyes sparkling in excitement. 

“I know you do!” The man matched his son’s enthusiasm, “it’ll be you, me and Pepper going to the zoo, how’s that sound, Kiddo?” 

“Yeah!” Peter nodded. “Sounds fun, Daddy!” 

“Great,” the man grinned. “Maybe we can go this weekend?” 

“Mhmm!” Peter grinned, shoveling another mouthful of pancakes into his mouth. 

Conversation continued on about Peter’s day at school yesterday and if he’d gotten his homework done and checked by an adult. Finally, it’s a couple minutes before the bus comes to pick Peter up, so Tony walks him out to the bus stop. 

The man watches his son get on, greeting the bus driver enthusiastically. 

\---- 

It was that following weekend that Peter met Pepper. 

His dad had been giddy on the drive to the zoo, talking happily to Peter, who was sat in the backseat in his booster seat. Tony sang to the radio, grinning at Peter- in a generally good mood. 

They’d arrived at the zoo before Pepper, but waited at the gates for what felt like forever. Peter held his dad’s hand, toeing his sneakers boredly into the gravelly dirt they were standing on. Peter’s eyes were down, looking at the dirt around them, so he didn’t really notice when a pair of feet, feet like his aunt Nat’s, stopped in front of them. 

It was the sound of his dad’s voice, bright and attentively greeting someone that drew Peter’s attention in. The boy looked up, instantly feeling shy and shuffling to half hide himself behind his dad’s legs. 

“Tony,” the woman greeted, her voice just as his dad’s. 

The woman looked nice, she had long hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had blue eyes, and looked nice enough. That said, Peter couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at her. And the way his dad’s hand settled on her waist for a second before he pulled back. 

“Pep, this is my son, Peter,” his dad pulled him around, then crouched behind Peter, arm wrapping around Peter’s torso to keep him in place, “and this is my friend Pepper, Bambi.” 

Peter raised his hand in a shy wave, turning away almost immediately to hide his face in his dad’s shirt. 

“Hi, Peter,” Pepper smiled, also crouching down to Peter’s level, “it’s nice to finally meet you. Your dad talks about you all the time!” 

Peter pulled away to look at her again, studying her- from her smile, to the clothes she was wearing. Then he tilted his head back to glance at the grin on his father’s face, narrowing his eyes before looking back at the woman. 

“’s nice to meet you too,” Peter mumbled respectfully. He still shied away, but thankfully, Pepper wasn’t looking for a handshake like some of his dad’s friends or the teachers at school looked for when he first met them. Peter didn’t really like touching people. 

That seemed to be good enough for the adults who smiled, then stood to full height again. 

“What do you say we head in now? Check out all the cute animals?” Tony amped up his excitement for Peter’s sake. 

“Yeah!” Peter grinned up at his dad, then subtly glance at Pepper. She smiled, but didn’t say anything. Peter latched onto his dad’s hand, following silently as his dad paid for everyone’s admission into the zoo. 

“Where would you like to go first, Peter?” Pepper asked, friendly smile cast down at him. 

“The...” Peter bit his lip scanning the map in front of them, “the snow leopards! I wanna go see the snow leopards!” Peter jumped in spot, grinning before flashing what his dad always called his ‘doe eyes’ at the two, “pleeassee?” 

“You’re in charge, Petey,” Tony grinned, giving Pepper a side glance. The woman smiled, nodding along. 

“We can go visit any animals you want today,” she agreed. 

They slowly made their way to the snow leopard enclosure, Peter skipping happily beside his dad, clutching tightly at his hand and Pepper and Tony talking in hushed voices to each other. On the way to the snow leopards, Peter got distracted by the sea lions, pulling his dad to a stop to watch. 

“Look. Look!” Peter pointed, letting his dad’s hand go to get closer to the barrier. He pressed up against it, craning his neck to see the sea lions. He felt his dad come up behind him, and then Pepper step to his right. 

“So cool, isn’t it honey?” Tony enthused, smiling down at Peter. 

“Mhm!” Peter grinned back at the two adults, “I like them, but I like the snow leopards even more.” 

“Well, let’s go see them then!” Pepper cheered. 

“Yeah, let’s go!” Peter agreed, taking his dad’s hand back into his and dragging him along. It was not Peter’s first trip to the zoo, and he was starting to memorize where everything was- between his visits with his class, his dad or one of his aunts or uncles. 

“The snow leopards are this way,” Peter told the two, letting go of his dad’s hand to lead them. “Snow leopards are my favorite kind of cat. They’re so pretty,” the boy spoke, not looking back and trusting the adults were following him. 

When they arrived at the snow leopard encloser (since Peter had zeroed in on it and refused to even glance at any of the other enclosures), he beamed happily, moving to stand on his toes to glance into the enclosure. 

“Up please, Daddy. I can’t see ‘em.” Tony obliged, moving to Peter and picking him up. Peter was quite happy to be settled on his dad’s hip, grinning down in the enclosure at the snow leopard. “Did ya know that snow leopard babies are born not being able to see, and they don’t get to see until, like, nine days after they’re born?” the seven-year-old turned his interested eyes to see how Pepper liked his fact. 

“No,” the woman smiled, “I didn’t know that.” 

“Andd,” Peter continued, grinning, “they’ll stay with their mommies for two years after they’re born, even though they’re solidary animals, which means they like to live by themselves!” 

“Woah,” Pepper enthused, “that’s a long time for cats. Thankfully people babies stay with their mommies and daddies for much longer.” Pepper teased easily. Peter felt his dad squeeze him a little tighter for a second before returning to just holding him. 

“Peter’s a snow leopard enthusiast,” Tony mused, bouncing the boy lightly in his arms and flashing a grin. 

“Yeah!” Peter agreed happily, “oh, oh, and, snow leopards can’t roar like lions and tigers, so they hiss, growl and make meowing sounds.” 

Almost as if to prove Peter’s point, the snow leopard in the encloser growled at one of the toys in the enclosure before making a quiet meowing noise. Peter grinned, leaning closer to see over the barrier. 

“You’re such a smart boy, Peter,” Pepper applauded, “where do you learn things like this?” 

“Books mostly,” Peter informed with a shrug, finally patting his dad’s chest to be put down. Tony settled the boy on the ground, fixing Peter’s shirt, which had ridden up, before standing to his full height again. “I learn a lot from school too! I really like our library, and the public library. There’s so many books about science, and snow leopards and, and, everything!” 

“A smart boy just like his daddy, huh?” Pepper grinned at Peter, then up at Tony, who blushed lightly, settling his hand on top of Peter’s head. 

“Yeah,” Peter turned to look up his dad with a look of adornment. “My daddy’s the smartest and he’s the best.” 

“Yes, he is.” 

“Okay, okay,” Tony interrupted, brushing his fingers through Peter’s hair, “let’s go get something for lunch? Peter, what do you think about a hotdog?” 

“Yeah!” The boy grinned, taking Tony’s hand, “I like ketchup on my hotdog, what about you, Pepper?” 

Tony and Pepper shared a pleased smile over the boy’s head before Pepper cleared her throat to speak, “I like mustard.” The woman stepped up to walk on Peter’s other side. 

“Daddy likes his hotdogs plain, right, Daddy?” 

“I do,” the man nodded, grinning at Pepper. 

Peter continued to babble on about some of the animals they passed on their way to a little concession stand by the entrance, and talk animatedly about snow leopards, sharing more facts he knew about the large cats. 

The hotdogs they got for lunch were good. Peter carefully squeezed one line of ketchup along his hotdog, then sat down with his dad and Pepper to eat. Peter didn’t like the bun very much, so he mostly ate the hotdog itself, with a couple sips of his dad’s cola soft drink. 

“You know, Peter,” Pepper started, wiping her mouth on a napkin, “I’ve got a boy who’s a couple years older than you.” Peter perked up at the sound of his name, tilting his head as Pepper spoke. 

“You do?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, “what’s his name?” 

“His name’s Harley, and he’s ten.” 

“I’m only seven.” Peter tilted his head, biting his bottom lip, “that’s so old,” the boy frowned. His heart quickened with anxiety. The thought of meeting Pepper’s son almost sent Peter into a panic. Thankfully, his dad had gotten good at detecting when he was starting to panic. 

“Hey now,” Tony threw an arm around Peter’s shoulder, pulling him into his side, “we can have friends older than us, remember? Skip’s your friend, right?” 

“Oh yeah,” Peter deflated, lowing his eyes. “He’s my friend.” 

“Yeah,” the man grinned, “Harley can be your friend too, right?” 

“Mhm,” Peter flashed an anxious smile, before looking away again. “Can we go to the monkeys next?” 

The rest of the trip to the zoo was filled with a slightly quieter Peter. The boy kept a hand on Tony, whether in his own larger hand, or gripping an article of the man’s clothing. The visited a couple more animals, watched a couple informational videos and even watched a penguin feeding before they started to head to the exit. 

Peter was exhausted, eyes drifting shut as his father pulled him along. It was only when he almost face planted after tripping over his own feet that Tony decided to put the kid out of his misery and pick him up. 

Peter curled instantly into his dad and sighed happily, eyes drifting closed. 

“Let’s just check out the giftshop before we go,” Pepper suggested. “I promised Harley I’d get him a stuffed monkey.” 

“Sounds good,” Tony agreed, following behind her with an easy smile. Peter’s head lulled on Tony’s shoulder and he’d blink his eyes open before letting them slip closed again for a couple seconds. 

“Look, Peter,” the boy lifted his head to look at Pepper, who was holding a big, fluffy snow leopard stuffed animal. Peter’s tired eyes widened and he grinned, reaching over his dad’s shoulder to finger through the toy’s soft fur. 

“Can I have it, daddy?” Peter asked tiredly, letting his cheek fall back to Tony’s shoulder. 

“No, honey, you have enough stuffed toys,” Tony frowned in thought. Peter frowned too, looking sadly down at the toy in arms reach. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Pepper waved him off, flashing a playful smile, “I’ll buy it for him. I’m already getting Harley a toy, and I was the one to show him.” 

Peter grinned wide at Pepper, taking the toy from her outstretched hand and holding it close to himself. 

“Are you sure?” Tony asked slowly, eyeing the toy before looking at Pepper with concern, “he really doesn’t need it.” 

“Nonsense,” the woman laughed, “never too many stuffies, right, Peter?” 

“Yuh, Daddy,” Peter tilted his head to catch a glimpse of his dad’s face, then looked back to smile at Pepper, “never too many stuffies.” 

Both adults laughed, and Peter smiled, hiding his nose in his dad’s neck. Peter watched with bleary eyes as Pepper paid for a stuffed monkey and the snow leopard Peter was still clutching. She flashed a smile at him and Peter ducked his head. 

“What do we say, baby?” Tony prompted, rubbing Peter’s back. 

“Thank you for the new stuffie, Pepper,” Peter mumbled easily. “I really like it.” 

“No problem, Buddy,” Pepper gave Peter a half smile, “I’m glad you like it.” 

Peter didn’t really remember much more after that. They walked to the car together, and his dad put him in his seat, buckling him in and setting the new toy in his lap. Peter also faintly remembers his daddy kissing Pepper. Which had him recoiling slightly in his sleepy state. 

Daddy had never kissed anyone but himself and grandma Rhodes before. His daddy must really like _like_ her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for a new chapter.   
> Now, I'm not gonna lie, this book has been stressing me out XD   
> So many people have subscribed, bookmarked, kudos and commented! Thank you so much to everyone! The first chapter has done super well! I hope you guys like this chapter too!
> 
> I apologize if characters seem OOC, I'm trying though, and I'll get into the swing of their personalities eventually!

Peter was nervous to meet Harley. His dad and Pepper had only said good things about the boy, but that didn’t really help. Harley was ten, and ten was much, much older than seven. 

Peter couldn’t help but feel threatened every time his daddy would come home from playing with Pepper and Harley. They’d gone bowling just last weekend, and Peter was upset because he’d only been bowling once. He didn’t really like bowling, but he didn’t want his dad going without him. 

He had a couple more days out with Pepper, including going to the theater to watch a new animated film, and going to the park to play on the structures for a while. 

He liked Pepper just fine. She was nice. She was interested in his facts about things, and just let him talk and talk about science and animals, and anything to come to mind. 

She even had a nickname for him. Peter liked being called ‘Buddy’ and ‘Bud’ and those where the names Pepper used for him. Peter liked that she didn’t call him any of the names that his dad called him, because those were special. 

But the time had finally come. The meeting. Both his dad and Pepper decided that Peter knew Pepper well enough and Harley knew his dad well enough for the two of them to meet. 

Peter didn’t think a Thursday was a good day to be meeting, but he didn’t really get a say as his dad shuffled him into the Pizzaria just before dinner on Thursday evening. 

Peter wasn’t in such a great mood, and his dad could tell- if the ‘best behavior’ lecture in the car on ride over was anything to go by. 

Peter couldn’t help it- and he wasn’t going to tell his dad why he was in such a bad mood. 

It was all Harley and Flash’s faults. All Peter and Ned had been doing was playing Legos in the school yard. Just like they did most days. Neither boy were much into physical activity. Ned just not the type, and Peter knowing he’d practically die from his asthma if he over-exerted himself too much. 

So, Legos were ideal. They’d take turns bringing in sets to complete. Todays was a Star Wars one. It was big, over a thousand pieces. Peter’s dad had bought it just last weekend, and they’d finally finished Ned’s last Dinosaur themed set. 

They’d got the bigger portion of the set completed within the forty-five-minute recess period. All had been well, until Flash and his friends found them hiding out in the courtyard. 

Flash had knocked the Lego model out of Ned’s hand, and all their hard work had shattered on the cement before them- pieces of the set bouncing into the grass to never be seen again. 

Peter knew he shouldn’t have said anything. 

But he did. When Harley called Ned a rude name, Peter did stand up. Both literally and figuratively. 

That only resulted in one of the older kids pushing him down. Flash had shot forwards, shoving Peter hard. Peter stumbled forwards, losing his balance, then ended up tripped over Ned’s leg and crashing down to the ground. 

Peter had bit his lip to keep from crying, eyes looking down at both his skinned knees as he turned to sit. The older boys left, all laughing. 

“Are you okay?” Ned asked meekly. His eyes looked down at Peter’s bleeding knees, then down to the Lego pieces littered around them. “That wasn’t very nice.” 

“It wasn’t,” Peter agreed, wiping his watery eyes before he could start crying. “I just got this set,” Peter huffed, ignoring the blood on his knees to kneel on the concrete and start gathering the pieces and drop them into the box they’d come in. 

“Are your knees okay?” Ned too was gathering pieces of Lego. Peter shrugged, biting his bottom lip. “Should we go to the office?” 

“They're okay.” the younger sighed, shaking his head, “I’ve got band-aids in my backpack. What will they say if we go back again?” 

“You could just tell them that Flash and Harley pick on us? On you?” 

“No,” Peter shook his head, “then they’ll tell my daddy. He’s already so busy, Ned. He doesn’t got time for that.” 

Ned frowned. 

“Hey, maybe you can come to my house this weekend and we can finish this? I bet I have the pieces we’re missing in my Lego box?” Peter suggested, knowing it would distract his friend. 

“Oh yeah!” Ned grinned, “I’ll ask my mom to call your dad tonight!” 

“Awesome!” Peter laughed. 

By the time Peter and his dad arrived at the Pizzaria, Peter was already tired and cranky. He didn’t want to meet whoever this Harley kid was, or talk with Pepper. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to spend time with his dad with just how much the man had been talking Harley up to him. 

He just wanted to go home and be left alone. Be alone in the silence, and read or play Legos- but instead he was being dragged around. His knees ached, scratching painfully on the rough texture of the nice jeans his dad had laid out on his bed for this meeting. 

“Hurry, hurry,” Tony guided Peter through the doors by a hand between his shoulder blades, “Pepper and Harley are waiting for us already. You were slow getting ready, Bub,” Tony teased. 

Peter sighed, moving a little faster so his dad’s hand would fall from his back. He didn’t want to be touching right now. 

“Can I have cheese pizza, Daddy?” Peter asked instead of responding. That could be the only saving grace of the day. 

“You can have any kind of pizza you want, honey,” the man assured. “Now, let’s go. I see them over there.” 

Peter looked up to see, glancing around at all the filled tabled before his gaze fell onto Pepper. Pepper and... Pepper and _Harley_. 

Peter’s eyes widened, and he froze. That was Harley. Harley from school. The same Harley who’d bullied him with his friend just that afternoon. 

“What’s up, Pete?” Peter’s eyes shot to his dad, blanching when he noticed the utter concern on his dad’s face. He didn’t want to ruin this for his dad. His dad really liked Pepper. His dad was so happy. 

“N-nothing, Daddy,” Peter gulped, “I, uh, I thought I saw someone from school. I didn’t though.” 

“Ah,” the man nodded, shuffling Peter along again. 

“Pep, Harls.” Tony greeted when they got to the table. Peter had managed to hide himself a bit behind his dad. He bit his lip, willing himself not to cry. He was already overwhelmed by this. 

“Hey, Tony,” Harley’s voice answered. 

“Hi, Tones,” Pepper’s soft voice followed. “What’re you hiding for, Bud?” she continued. 

“C’mon, Pete,” Tony laughed, pulling Peter carefully by the arm so the boy was in full sight. Peter watched as Harley schooled his playful features to a nervous eyebrow furrow. The older boy was doing the exact same thing Peter had when he’d noticed who was sitting at the table with his dad’s new girlfriend. 

“Peter, this is Pepper’s son Harley, and Harley, this is my son, Peter.” Tony introduced, biting his lip as he watched, gauging their reactions to each other. 

“Hey Peter,” Harley brushed off his nervous look to flash a false smile. Peter swallowed before giving the boy a wave. 

This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be. Peter hadn’t even thought about the fact that Pepper’s Harley could be the Harley from school. The odds of this made Peter want to cry as anxiety thrummed through him. 

Tony slid into the booth on the opposite side of Pepper and her son, and Peter let himself be manhandled into the spot right beside his dad, where he inched as close to the man as he could manage. 

His eyes were locked on Harley. The same Harley who’d called Ned a rude name just hours before. The same kid who watched his friends shove Peter to the concrete and said not a single thing about it. Harley’s eyes shifted to Peter every once and a while, but he was quick to look away and focus on Peter’s dad and his own mom, keeping up with conversation Peter was neglecting. 

Peter didn’t really want to talk. He wanted now, more than ever, to be home in his room. Away from this. Away from his dad, and from Pepper and definitely away from Harley. Peter listened absently to the conversation. It had drifted to school, which had Peter holding his breath. 

“Yeah, I go to Midtown,” Harley informed, “Me’n my friends are head of our class,” the boy told Peter’s father, grinning. 

“Oh, really? That’s where Peter goes to school too,” Tony looked down fondly at his boy, who was staring up at him with anxious eyes that had the man staring for a second longer. “And you guys have never met before?” 

Peter was quick to shake his head as Harley cleared his throat to speak, “well, uh, there’s really a grade division... Like, we don’t really... we don’t usually talk to the younger grades-” 

“But we’ve seen each other in passing,” Peter added quickly, “I mean, Harley’s, uh, he’s, he’s k-known around the school...” Peter bit his bottom lip as the boy flashed him a glare that neither parent saw. 

“Is he now?” Pepper grinned, playfully throwing her arm over Harley’s shoulders, “and just what might you be known for, huh, Kid?” 

“Oh, uh, you know...” Harley gave a nervous smile. 

“He’s just always so nice,” Peter piped in, the words tasting like acid in his mouth. His eyes shot down to the table, and a wave of nausea washed over him. “When... uh, when we do happen to, uh, be doing something with all the grades...” 

“That’s what a mom likes to hear,” Pepper leaned over to press a kiss to the side of Harley’s head. The boy flushed, flashing a warning glare at the younger boy. Peter simply curled a little closer to his father’s side. 

This outing was giving Peter a headache. Lying through his teeth for his dad’s sake was tiering. 

It wasn’t much later that their food arrived at the table. Two steaming hot pizzas. 

Pepper and Tony had decided to order two, so they could each pay for a pizza. There was one cheese, and the other pepperoni- but just looking at the food made Peter’s stomach churn. 

Peter watched silently as his dad grabbed two plates from the stack of four on the table, and Pepper took the last two, sliding one to Harley who quickly served himself a piece of cheese and a piece of pepperoni pizza. 

Peter’s eyes tracked his dad’s hands as they put a piece of cheese pizza on Peter’s plate before setting it in front of the boy. He then grabbed his own two pieces of cheese pizza. Peter stared down at his pizza, lifting it up a bit by the crust before dropping it back down. 

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered to his dad, who paused in taking a bite of his own slice of pizza. 

“What do you mean?” the man set his food down, “you were excited for the cheese pizza, bud.” 

Peter stared down at his pizza, then as an act of defiance, slid the plate away. He would probably get in trouble later, but that was fine. 

“Pete...” Tony warned as he flashed Pepper a smile, “you need to eat at least a couple bites.” 

“I don’t want too.” Peter looked up to his dad with a frown, “I don’t like it.” 

Peter heard Harley snort quietly, and his dad sigh. 

“You haven’t tried it, Buddy,” Pepper reminded. “It’s really good,” she promised. 

Peter glanced at her, then towards his dad who was watching him closely. 

“Couple bites, Peter.” Peter wrinkled his nose at the pizza, but picked it up and took a small bite anyways. That had been his dad’s no arguing voice. It didn’t really taste bad or anything, it sat like a rock in his stomach. 

Everyone ate their pizza (Peter two more bites before pushing it away) and before the second grader knew, dinner was over. But just because they were finished eating, didn’t mean their night was over. 

“Why don’t we head over to the arcade?” Tony asked the group. It was then, Peter’s eyes shifted to the arcade portion of the Pizzaria. It was decently sized for the small business- there was even a small prize counter. 

“Actually, Tony, why don’t Peter and I head over? I’m sure you guys want a bit of alone time, don’t ya?” Peter’s attention snapped to Harley, who was smiling innocently at their parents. 

“Are you sure?” Pepper asked, eyeing her son. 

“Are you okay with that, Petey?” Tony looked over at his own boy, noting the fear in his son’s eyes, but not saying anything about it. 

“Uhm, uh, yeah. S-sure, Harley.” Peter’s eyes fell to his lap. Tony’s hand settled on Peter’s knee, giving a soft squeeze of concern. With that, Peter’s attention drifted up again to send his dad what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“If you’re sure, Pete,” Tony relented. “Here’s twenty bucks to exchange for some tokens. Come back when you’re out of them, okay?” Peter nodded, taking the twenty-dollar bill into his hand and standing to follow after Harley, who’d gotten his own money from his mother. 

They walked in silence to the little adjoining room to the restaurant. Peter glanced back at their table to see both Pepper and his dad leaning closer together across the table. Peter’s nose scrunched up before he looked forwards again to follow after the older boy. 

“That’s so gross,” Harley muttered under his breath as they finally disappeared into the small arcade room. There was just the two of them in the room, and the bored looking teenager managing the prize counter. “Look, just because my mom is dating your dad, doesn’t mean we have to be friends.” 

Peter tilted his head, watching as the boy put his money in the token dispenser, then grabbed them all in his fist and pocketed them, “I’ve already got enough friends. I don’t need you as one. You just stick with Tubby, alright?” 

Peter opened his mouth to reply- to defend his best friend, but Harley had already turned to stride towards one of the game machines. Peter deflated, inserting his twenty dollars to exchange for tokens too. He bit his lip in thought, then sighed as he collected his tokens and putting them in a plastic cup from the counter beside the dispenser. 

So, Harley wasn’t any nicer when he wasn’t at school. Noted. 

Peter eyed the older boy, already playing a game of Pac-Man in the corner of the arcade away from everything else. 

Peter made his way to one of the ticket machines, and started putting his own tokens in. He was pretty good at these machines. They were the ones he was always drawn to- since he really liked picking prizes at the prize counter. 

He played for a while, winning loads of tickets that could probably get him some cool prizes. The boy grinned as he got a bonus on the machine he was on, which added up to a whopping one-hundred tickets shooting out of the slot. 

He wasn’t sure how long he played for, nor how many tickets he’s won when someone came up beside. 

“Our parents are coming, and we need to look like we haven’t been playing on our own this whole time. Let’s go, we can play some air hockey or something- you've still got tokens, right?” 

Peter nodded as the older boy dragged him away. 

“I wanted to cash my tickets,” Peter explained, holding up his handful of ribbons of tickets. 

“Later,” Harley rolled his eyes, “now give me four tokens for the air hockey game. Hurry.” 

Peter did so, dropping his last four tokens into Harley’s hand, who quickly put them in the machine, then shoved Peter towards the opposite side of the board. The machine hummed to life, and before Peter could even get a hand on the paddle, Harley was shooting the puck directly into Peter’s goal. 

“Hey!” Peter frowned, “I wasn’t ready!” 

“Sucks to suck,” Harley frowned in distaste. “Hurry up, they’ll be here any second.” 

Peter glared, grabbing the puck from his slot, then placing it on the board and hitting it towards Harley’s side. The boy struck fast, shooting the puck right back into Peter’s goal. 

“This isn’t fair!” Peter protested, “you’re taller! I can barely reach over the board!” 

“Grow up,” the older boy rolled his eyes again, “grab the puck and keep playing. They’re coming in now, so smile.” 

Peter huffed a breath, grabbing the puck again and setting it on the board. He shot it towards Harley, and surprisingly, the boy was playing nice now- Peter almost questioned it, until his dad appeared at his side, and Harley was flashing his mother an innocent smile. An act. 

“Look at you boys, having fun?” Pepper asked, standing behind Harley and putting her hands on his shoulders. 

“Loads, Mum,” the boy grinned at Peter and Tony, “right, Pete?” 

“Uh, yep.” Peter gave a forced smile. 

“Who's winning?” Tony asked as he leaned down beside Peter, arms crossing over the plastic edge of the game that wasn’t blowing up air. 

“Me!” Harley laughed, “I’ve been giving Peter some pointers, right?” 

“Yep,” the younger huffed again, knocking the puck back to Harley’s side of the game. With a quick movement from the older boy, the puck was once again shot right into Peter’s goal. 

“Woah-ho, nice shot, Kiddo!” Tony grinned at Harley, as he patted Peter on the shoulder. Peter refrained from rolling his eyes and shying away from his father’s touch in order to give the older boy a false sportsmanship smile. 

“Score’s three-zero,” Harley told their parents proudly. “Pete’s putting up a good fight though.” 

Peter shrugged because he really wasn’t. He was getting beat in every sense of the word. 

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” Peter told his dad, handing the paddle back to his dad to continue for him. 

“What do you mean?” Harley gave a pout, batting his eyelashes, “we’re in the middle of the game.” 

“Pete,” Tony sighed, “you can’t just-” 

“I’m gonna exchange my tickets,” Peter grabbed the pile from under the air hockey game. Peter didn’t bother waiting for anyone to say anything, just walked his way over to the prize counter. He could faintly hear his dad apologizing for his manners, but Pepper just brushed it off with a laugh. 

It kind of hurt Peter’s feelings that his dad was taking Harley’s side- since the man didn’t even know any of what Harley and his friends put Peter and Ned up too at school. And now he had to hang out with him after school too. 

It was only a couple seconds later, Peter looked up from his gaze in the display case, that he acknowledged Pepper. She was stood beside him, also admiring the toys and trinkets in the case. 

“Are you alright?” she asked softly, carefully, crouching down beside Peter to be at his height. 

Peter eyed her for a second, nodding easily as he pointed to an item in the case he wanted. It was a rubbery frog toy that looked cool. It was blue and detailed, and Peter liked it a lot. 

Pepper didn’t say anything else as Peter picked a couple other small trinkets, including a lollipop and a couple other small candies. He stared for a while, not really wanting to go back to his dad yet- to see his dad playing with Harley- but it was getting close to Peter’s bedtime now, and they’d probably be heading home soon. 

“Should we go check on Harley and your dad?” Pepper asked easily. She’d let him just stare into the case for a couple minutes, but it was getting late. Peter tilted his head in her direction before giving her a nod. Together he and Pepper walked back to where Tony and Harley were finally finishing the game. 

“I won!” Harley grinned, “good game, Tony.” 

“Likewise, Kid. You’ve got a mean flick of the wrist.” Tony laughed, eyes falling to his girlfriend and son. “Welcome back, guys.” 

Peter shuffled to stand by his dad, meekly pressing into his dad’s side. He was starting to reach his quota of interacting with people. 

Just by the way his son had instantly curled into his side, Tony knew the evening was over. Peter could be social, but when he was done, he was done. There simply was no forcing him into it. Peter had a tendency to emotionally shut down. 

“Well,” the man leaned over to scoop his son into his arms, “this was fun. It’s getting pretty late though, and you Kiddos have school tomorrow. Call it a night?” 

Pepper nodded, throwing her arm over Harley’s shoulder, “call it a night.” 

“This was so much fun,” Harley grinned, leaning a little into his mom’s side, “we’ve got to do this again! Right, Pete?” 

Peter furrowed his eyebrows before mustering the strength to turn and smile at Pepper and Harley, “uh, yeah, we gotta!” 

“Great then,” Pepper grinned, “Tony and I will sort that out- maybe we could do something this weekend?” 

“Totally,” Tony agreed with a bright smile. 

They walked out to their cars, goodbyes were exchanged and soon, Peter was settled into his booster seat and they were one the way home. 

“So, how was that, bud?” Tony asked, glancing back at Peter in the rearview mirror. Peter didn’t say anything, gave a small shrug to please the man before staring out his window. 

Peter didn’t say another word until just before bedtime, as his dad read him a book. Usually the man would like Peter to read to him, since the boy was ahead of his peers in reading level, but today, Peter was having none of it. 

All the books and articles said that this could be hard and stressful for kids, so that’s what Tony caulked it up to as he pressed a kiss to Peter’s head and retreated from his bedroom for the night. 

\---- 

That next evening, Ned came home with Peter on the bus. He was spending the night, so the two of them could build the new Lego set Peter had gotten. Ned had been stoked when his mom told him to bring an overnight bag to school, and that he’d be sleeping over at Peter’s. 

Ned had noticed that Peter was quiet that next day at school, even during recess, where the two hid away in the library and watched a couple science videos on one of the public desktops. 

It wasn’t until locked safely in Peter’s bedroom, munching on a snack of carrot sticks and ranch dip did the younger boy unload his woes. 

“It’s Harley, Ned,” the boy sighed, and for a moment, Ned was confused. Then, the boy thought back to Peter mentioning having to meet Pepper’s son Harley. 

“Harley... like... your dad’s girlfriend’s Harley is... is _our_ Harley?” 

Peter bit his bottom lip, munching on a carrot before nodding. Harley wasn’t a popular name, Ned knew, but it wasn’t that original either. And what chance had there really been that Pepper’s Harley could be their bully Harley? 

Peter hadn’t said much about meeting Pepper’s son, since he hadn’t really known much either way. To say Ned was shocked, was an understatement. 

“Really?” the bigger boy gaped, “the same Harley who watched Flash push you down? And called me-” 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded slowly, “same guy.” 

“Was he, I mean, like any nicer?” 

“When my dad and Pepper were around, yeah, definitely,” Peter nodded, “when it was just me and him, uh, no, not really.” 

Ned stared at his friend, blinking a couple times before clearing his throat, “so... what happened?” 

“I lied,” Peter shrugged easily, standing from the bed to get his bucket of spare Legos. 

“You lied?” 

“Yeah,” Peter grabbed the Lego set they’d been working on Thursday, “I lied about who Harley was. I told my dad that he was super nice, and I didn’t mention anything about Harley and his friends picking on us-” 

“Why?” Ned gaped, “why not tell? Harley’s been mean to you since we started school-” 

“I can’t,” Peter said quietly, “I won’t. You haven’t seen... My dad’s so happy with Pepper. He really likes her, Ned.” Peter lowered his voice, “like, like _likes_ her. I’ve seen him kiss her on the mouth.” 

“Ew,” Ned’s nose scrunched up in disgust. 

“I know,” Peter forced a little laugh, clicking a couple pieces of Lego together, “but he’s happy. Way happier than I’ve ever seen... It’s... it’s fine. I promise.” 

“But-” 

“Hey, have you seen this piece anywhere? I think it was one of the pieces we lost in the grass.” And just like that, Peter steered the conversation away from the new girlfriend topic. 

It was fine. He’d get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after rereading what I've written (upcoming chapters as well), Peter could be on the autism spectrum. The only young people I talk to and see, are my cousin (who's fairly high on the spectrum) and the little boy I babysit who I think is on the spectrum, but I'm not 100% sure. I didn't intentionally write it like that, it just kinda happened. He'll do a couple things my cousin does, and I personally think Peter Parker's at least a little on the spectrum :P
> 
> I don't know a lot about autism, so apologies in advance. It won't be mentioned a lot, since I don't actually know a lot, but just as a side note, if Peter does something different.
> 
> Now, Harley's kind of an ass, but he will get better! I promise! He'll be a bit of a brat for a while, but his character will grow! Older siblings like being in charge (coming from a younger sibling) and I doubt this scenario would be any different. Peter and Harley's sibling bond will grow! Eventually.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part! This book still gives me anxiety, but I'm working out of my comfort zone!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy :)

The first time Harley slept over at Peter’s house was because Pepper was going away for a business meeting. It was a Stark Industries thing, but Peter’s dad didn’t need to go. Only the CEO, who was Pepper. 

Peter had sat on the bed in the guest room right beside his bedroom as his dad cleaned some dust off the dressed and bedside table in the room. Dad and Pepper had been dating for about a month and a half now. Or, a month and a half ago Peter had been introduced to Harley in the Pizzaria. 

They’d probably been dating before that, but Peter wasn’t too sure for how long. 

“What’re you doing?” Peter asked. He’d followed his dad in after lunch. 

“I’m cleaning the guest room up.” Tony informed as he dragged a rag along the surface of the oak dresser. A tidying of the nicest spare room could only mean one thing- 

“Is uncle Rhodey comin’ to visit?” 

“Nope,” Tony shook his head. 

“Aunt ‘Tasha?” 

“No.” 

“Nana?” 

“No,” Tony laughed, “give up yet?” 

“Yeah,” Peter deflated, flopping back on the bed. “Who’s comin’?” 

“Harley’s coming to spend the night tomorrow.” 

“Harley?” Peter shot to a sitting position. “Here? For, for how long?” 

“Woah, relax, Kid,” Tony huffed a laugh, ruffling Peter’s hair, “he’s coming just before dinner tomorrow and leaving in the afternoon on Saturday.” 

“What for?” Peter couldn’t help but ask. He inched a little closer up the bed and settled against the pillows as his dad pulled out a stack of fresh sheets and pillow cases from the closet. A set of really nice sheets to make the bed with. 

“His mom’s going to a very important Stark Industries meeting, and there's a lot of travel involved. She doesn’t want to leave Harley home alone, so I volunteered for us to have him come over. A guys night. Sounds fun, right?” 

It would be without Harley, Peter thought bitterly to himself. “Super-cool, Daddy!” The boy enthused instead. And it was worth it, just by the beaming smile his dad flashed him. 

“That’s what I like to hear!” the man grinned, “now, help daddy make the bed and then we can head downstairs and have a popsicle, ‘kay?” 

“Kay!” Peter chirped. 

That following Friday after school, Peter insisted on bussing home. His dad had mentioned that Pepper wouldn’t have minded picking him up too, since they’d be heading to Peter’s house after making a pitstop at their own penthouse, but Peter was very against that idea. 

Plus, this way he got to talk to Ned a little longer until the older boy got off the bus. 

Peter was always the last one to get off too, not that he minded. The bus driver was really nice when it was just him on board. It was only about twenty minutes by himself, which was alright, considering the bus driver turned on the radio and Peter could just read. 

When he arrived home, Pepper’s car was already in the driveway, parked beside his dad’s. Peter blew out a breath, walking slowly up the walkway to the door and pulling it open as quietly as he could. 

He could hear his dad’s voice in the living room, as well as Pepper’s and a couple words from Harley as the all talked. 

Peter wrinkled his nose in thought. 

Harley was in his house. 

Oh, how he wished Ned could be here with him, but he didn’t want to put Ned in any crossfires. Harley was meaner to Ned than he was to Peter, after all. Especially now that their parents were dating. 

Peter hung both his jacket and backpack by the door, then slipped into the kitchen for a snack. His pick was, of course, goldfish crackers. They were his favorite snack of all time. He grabbed a packet of them, then moved to peek into the living room. Pepper and Harley were sitting on the couch, and his dad in the loveseat across from them. 

Peter didn't particularly want to join them, so he moved slowly to head of the stairs and escape everyone but- “Pete? You came in awful quiet,” his dad’s voice had him freezing on the stairs, “come say hi to Pepper and Harley.” 

Peter scowled up the stairs before evening his face into a smile and stepping into the room. How his dad had heard him, he didn’t know. But he wished his dad hadn’t. Just thinking about Harley being in his living room was making him anxious. 

“Hello,” Peter greeted both Harley and Pepper with a smile. He eyed everyone in the room subtly before moving to the last chair in the room, an old recliner that had once been in his nursery, and sitting down. It rocked calmly back and forth. 

“Hi, Peter, how are you today?” Pepper asked with a bright smile. 

“Okay,” Peter forced out with a shrug, glanced at his dad, who was giving him a look, so Peter continued quietly, “how are you?” 

“I’m great, Bud.” The woman smiled. “I really should be heading out now though,” Pepper stood up, “you be a good boy, ya’hear?” Pepper gripped Harley’s chin carefully between her fingers and tilted his face to look at her. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Harley huffed, playfully trying to pull away from her. 

Pepper fussed a little more over Harley, trying to press kisses to the sides of his head and on top of his head as she talked about rules and how Tony would give an honest report of his behavior the following day. Peter took that time to open his packet of crackers, stuffing a couple in his face so he couldn’t be forced to talk. 

Peter’s dad chuckled at the back and forth conversation between Harley and Pepper before promising that everyone would be alright overnight. Peter wasn’t so sure. Peter watched from his recliner as the other three stood up to see Pepper off at the door. 

When they were all out of sight, Peter took that as his opportunity to slip off the chair and disappear up the stairs. His bedroom door closed behind him with a soft click. The boy glared around his room for a moment before finally settling in and flopping down on his bed. 

He pulled his stuffed bear into his chest, then grabbed a handful of crackers and shoved them in his mouth- chewing them slowly. 

Peter was thankfully left alone for a while. He managed to calm himself down and finished his crackers before sitting on the floor and playing with a RC car and track set. He built the track, then watched his little car speed around in circles. 

He could barely hear his dad and Harley walking up the stairs, and then the door beside Peter’s bedroom was pulled open. Peter huffed a sigh, letting the remote control for his car fall from his fingers. He turned the car and the controller off, then moved to play with some Legos. 

It wasn’t much time later that the was a quiet tapping on his door, followed by it being pulled open before he could say anything. 

“Is there a reason you’re hiding in your room, Bambi?” Peter’s dad asked softly, leaning against the doorframe and glancing around the room. 

“No,” Peter shook his head. He looked down at the Legos in his hands, he clicked them together before glancing up again. “Just playin’.” 

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed, “did something happen at school? You don’t usually come upstairs for quiet-time right after school.” 

“Nothing happened,” Peter promised with a smile. 

“Alright,” Tony blew out a breath, “Harley’s getting kind of board, why don’t you bring him outside and show him your trampoline and swing set?” 

“’kay,” Peter shrugged, standing up and dropping his Lego pieces back into the bucket. He hadn’t really been building anything, just playing around with the pieces. 

Peter followed his dad downstairs. He found Harley slumped onto the couch with a cartoon channel playing. 

“Harls,” Harley’s attention lifted to Tony, “how’s about you and Peter head outside to play for a bit while I start on dinner?” 

“Sounds good,” Harley grinned, eyes shifting to Peter. “Let’s go then.” 

Despite it being Peter’s house and Peter’s toys, the boy followed behind the older boy. Harley pulled his shoes and jacket on first and left out the back door before Peter even had one arm through a sleeve of his own jacket. 

The boy scowled to himself, slipping his shoes on and zipping his jacket up before disappearing out the door as well. 

They had a nice backyard. It was large, and spacious. There were bushes along the fencing, and two large trees- one of which was a crab apple tree and the other a huge oak tree- which had an old tire swing on one of the branches from the original home owners. 

Peter had a couple outside toys- a tent structure his dad had made for hiding (almost like a clubhouse), a swing set his dad had built for him from scratch and a large springless trampoline Peter had gotten for Christmas two years ago from all his aunts and uncles. 

There was also a toy chest with different kinds of balls and a foam baseball bat. He didn’t touch these very often. 

He didn’t really spend much time outside, but he liked having the option. Plus, there was nothing funner than playing crack-the-egg on the trampoline with Steve and Bucky. 

Harley’s eyes instantly shot around the backyard, taking in all the activities he could do. He’d never really had a backyard. They’d always lived in the penthouse. He liked the penthouse, but a backyard would be nice. 

“You’ve got a lot of stuff,” Harley mumbled, trailing over to the trampoline and pulling himself up and through the gap in the net. He gave a couple light bounces before grinning and jumping forcefully. 

Peter watched the older boy on his trampoline before moving to the tire swing on the oak tree. Peter watched Harley out of the corner of his eye as he swung. Harley was just bouncing around, but that was only fun for so long. 

It didn’t take long for Harley to start crawling out of the trampoline. He went to the swing set next. But just like the trampoline, he lost interest pretty fast. He checked out the tent, but didn’t bother going inside. It was the time of year that the spiders liked to be in it- away from the winds and chill. 

Finally, Harley made his way to the toy chest, flipping it open and digging around. He pulled out a foam softball then grinned at Peter as he climbed back into the trampoline. 

“Hey, Pete,” Peter turned his full attention to the older boy, “do ya’wanna play a game?” 

“A game?” Peter asked slowly, watching the older boy carefully, “what kind’a game?” 

“C’mere,” Harley gestured him over. Peter dragged his feet over the dirt below him to stop the swing. He slipped free of the tire, then walked to Harley. Harley bounced once, then landed on his knees, foam ball squished in his grip. “You’re going to throw this ball over the net, and I’m going to try and catch it, got it?” 

“That doesn’t sound fun,” Peter shook his head, “why would I wanna play that?” 

“Well,” Harley grinned, “y’know, your dad has been watching us through the kitchen window this whole time-” 

Peter’s eyes drifted to the kitchen window, where he almost made eye contact with his father, who was in deed watching them, “-and I mean, my mom would be so pissed off if I wasn’t playing with the guest... I can only imagine your dad would be too when we go in for dinner and I tell him you didn’t want to play with me.” 

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he opened his mouth to deny that. He paused, snapping his jaw shut with a click when he realized his dad _would_ be mad over that. 

Peter glanced quickly to the window before sighing heavily, “how’d’ya play?” 

Harley grinned. 

By the time Peter’s dad called them in for dinner, Peter was frustrated and cold. He’d wanted to go in earlier, but Harley insisted they keep playing. 

It wasn’t even really playing. It was just Peter throwing the ball over the net so Harley could try and catch it in midair before the older boy would chuck the ball in the totally opposite direction from Peter and the younger boy would have to basically fetch like a dog. 

Dinner was chicken quesadillas. Peter just got cheese quesadillas because he didn’t like the seasoning packet that goes on the chicken. Dinner was quiet. Peter’s dad asked about their game, and Harley happily told the man about some the finer catches he’d made while they played. Peter didn’t say anything for obvious reasons, nodding along and flashing smiles when he was brought up. 

After dinner they watched two movies, and Peter was even allowed to stay up until ten, which rarely happened. Harley had wanted to watch Coraline, and Peter wanted to watch The Lion King. 

Peter hadn’t seen Coraline before. But if the smirk Harley sent him as the beginning credits started playing was anything to go by, Peter was in for it. 

The movie had been scary. The other mom in the film had Peter hiding in his dad’s side, and grasping fistfuls of the blanket covering his lap. He really wasn’t a fan of the button eyes either. It was one of the scariest films Peter had seen- besides that one time he hid behind the couch while uncle Rhodey was watching a horror movie. 

They watched The Lion King directly after, but Peter was still shaken from Coraline. 

Tony had put the boys to bed around ten, then himself around eleven. Harley fell asleep pretty quickly, but Peter was taking a bit more persuading. He knew that Coraline had been a bit too much for Peter. But by the time he’d realized how scared his boy was, the movie was just about over, and it was past the scariest bits. 

It was really early when Peter woke up. He’d startled awake from a dream where his dad had buttons for eyes, and Coraline’s scary other mother was there beside him. It had been terrible, and left Peter shaking in his bed. He clutched his bear to his chest, gulping as he moved to crawl from his bed. He had to go make sure his daddy was okay. And that he was buttonless. 

He moved quickly but silently, aware that Harley was asleep in the next room, but not really caring if he woke him up. Peter had more pressing matters. 

He creaked his dad’s bedroom door open and stood frozen for a second, just watching the covers rise and fall with his dad’s breaths- or who he hoped was his dad. 

He stepped into the room, hugging his bear close as he carefully closed the door behind himself. He moved slowly to his dad’s bed, standing just out of arms reach. He couldn’t tell if his dad had button eyes or not, because he was asleep. 

“Daddy,” Peter whispered, cowering back incase whoever this was sprung at him, “Daddy?” 

“Hn?” came a sleep-dazed hum, then his eyes fluttered open. Peter released a sigh of relief as he made contact with his dad’s tired brown eyes. His exhale seemed to wake his dad up a little more, “Peter? What’re you doing up, sweetheart?” Tony sat up, rubbing his eyes and glancing at the clock beside his bed. 

Two AM. 

“H-had a bad dream,” Peter whimpered, now that he knew this was his dad he wanted comfort. 

“Oh, honey,” Tony threw the covers up a little so Peter could join him, “was it about the movie?” 

“Uh huh,” Peter sniffled as he climbed in beside his dad, curling into the man’s side as his dad covered the two of them in the blanket and settled back down, “you had, the, the button eyes, Daddy, and Coraline’s other mum was beside you- and she was the s-scary spider one, and, and you guys chased me!” 

“Oh no,” Tony frowned, “scary.” 

“Mhm,” Peter whimpered, “didn’t like it, Daddy.” 

“I know, Bambi.” Tony brushed his fingers through Peter’s hair, “it’s all pretend though, remember? None of it was real.” 

“Pretend,” Peter repeated to himself, “okay.” 

“Now, do you wanna stay here with Daddy tonight? I’ll protect you, even though it’s all pretend, alright?” 

Peter nodded against his dad’s chest, breathing in his scent before letting his eyes drift shut. Tony continued to run his fingers through Peter’s hair as the boy’s breaths evened out. 

\---- 

Peter sighed heavily where he stood off to the side in the garage his dad owned. Bucky had needed his daddy’s help with something, and Harley and Peter had been dragged along. 

The morning had been alright. Peter woke up alone in his dad’s bed, and had stupidly brought his bear with him to the kitchen where Harley and his dad were making eggs and bacon. Harley’s eyes lit up with mirth as his eyes landed on the bear in Peter’s arms. 

Harley snorted a hidden laugh to himself as he continued on with buttering his toast, eyes flicking to the bear in Peter’s arms every once in a while. 

Pretty soon after finishing eating, Tony sent them to get dressed, and had Harley pack up his bag. They were heading to the garage for the morning, and Pepper was going to be picking him up there. 

Peter realized very quickly that he did not like Harley hanging out with his dad. As he stood off to the side watching his dad and Harley crowd under the hood of a car as his dad talked, teaching Harley the workings of the vehicle. 

Peter himself had been there before- on multiple occasions- he didn’t really have an interest in cars, but he’d let his dad try and teach him. Peter strongly preferred when they’d do building in their own garage at home instead of just cars. 

Harley was into it though, listening intently and asking questions. Peter did not like the way his dad lit up whenever Harley would ask something about the cars. 

When the young boy grew tired of just watching them, he moved away. He’d practically grown up in the garage- there were probably playpens and baby gates tucked away in a closet from how much time he’d spent here when he was really little. 

Peter found Bucky working on a different car, a few cars away from Harley and his dad. But when Peter stopped beside this car, Bucky actually looked up and smiled at him. His dad and Harley practically forgot he was there. 

Bucky was the one in charge of the garage when his dad couldn’t be- whether he was busy with Peter, or with Stark Industries. Peter liked Bucky. He liked Steve too. They were a couple, and Peter’s favorite people. They were practically uncles, but he just called them by their names. 

Bucky was usually stony and ridged when it came to interacting with people, but he had a soft spot for Peter. Not many people really got to see Bucky’s personality. Steve and Peter- and sometimes Tony if he was lucky. 

“Hey, Petey, how’s it hanging?” 

“Good,” Peter sighed, stepping up to leaning against the side of the car beside Bucky. 

“Doesn’t sound too good,” the man gave a mock pout, making Peter giggle. “Why aren’t you over with your dad and Harley?” 

Peter’s eyes drifted down, scuffing his foot against the concrete below. 

“Ah,” Bucky hummed, “I get it.” Peter watched as the man smacked his palm against his t-shirt, dragging it down his chest- leaving a black motor oil smudge in its place. In the next second that same hand was ruffling through Peter’s hair. 

Peter squealed, reaching up with a grin to pry the laughing man’s hand from his hair. He knew there’d still be some grease left, but he didn’t really care. 

“Harley stepping on your toes then?” 

It seemed Bucky saw it. Saw what his dad, and what Pepper couldn’t. Saw that Peter didn’t really like Harley. “Not a fan, huh?” 

Peter shrugged, biting his bottom lip. He didn’t want to actually admit to anything, and if he told Bucky about the things Harley and his friends had done, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the man would tell his dad. But Peter didn’t want that. Not when Pepper, and now Harley were making his dad so happy. 

“’s okay,” Peter managed a small smile. 

“’s not,” Bucky returned in a teasing tone, voice not matching with the frown he was sporting. “Ah hah, I said snot.” 

Peter laughed again, leaning a little closer to Bucky. That seemed to make Bucky grin too. 

“So, what is the deal with the new kiddo?” Bucky asked after a second, leaning back over the car to continue working. 

“Daddy’s dating Pepper,” Peter informed first, just incase the man didn’t know. Bucky gave a hum of acknowledgement as he continued to fidget with pieces of the car’s engine. “Harley is Pepper’s son, and she had to do something for SI, so Daddy said he’d watch Harley.” 

“Ah, I see.” Bucky nodded, lifted a grease covered hand to stroke at his chin. Instantly, the whole of his chin was covered in dark grease, which had Peter cackling once more. Bucky hadn’t even thought about doing it, not remembering his hand was grease covered. 

That in itself was hilarious. Peter was laughing hard enough that it was making him cough. 

Bucky was quick to pat his back to help him stop coughing, greasy hand once again forgotten and leaving hand prints on Peter’s t-shirt. That was better than an asthma attack though. 

“Okay, Pete?” Peter heard his dad call. The boy looked over to see his father looking at him worriedly. He was still wheezing a bit, but not too bad. He gave a thumbs up to his dad. The man watched for a second long before finally turning back to the car. 

“What’s all the laughing for?” Bucky asked when Peter’s breathed evened finally. He looked confused, leaning close to Peter and speaking softly as if it were some secret Peter was about to share. 

“Your hands are dirty,” Peter whispered into his ear, then swiped a finger along Bucky’s chin- which came back darkened. Bucky stared in shock for a second before he himself laughed as well. 

“I forgot,” the man huffed another round of laughter, “aw man, your dad’s going to kill me.” The man spun Peter around to see the hand prints on the back of the boy’s shirt. 

“It’s okay,” Peter giggled. “Play clothes,” the boy continued to inform the man. 

“Ah, good.” Bucky sighed. “How’s about you and I do a bit of working on this car, and when it’s finished, if Harley’s still here, you’n’me get some ice-cream, how’s it sound?” 

“Like a plan,” Peter grinned, stepping up on his toes to see under the car’s hood. 

Peter actually had fun working on the car with Bucky. The man kept trying to make him laugh. At one point Bucky smeared some grease onto Peter’s chin so the matched. 

“And I think that’s about it,” the man lifted his head to look at his little assistant, “wanna do me a favor and go turn the key for me?” 

Peter nodded, hopping around the man to the open driver’s side door. Peter sat himself on the edge of the seat, leaning around the steering wheel to turn the ignition key for Bucky. The car hummed to life and Peter grinned. 

“Perfect,” Bucky called. “Gimme a horn?” 

Peter pressed the horn with two hands. Bucky laughed. 

“Nicee.” He called and Peter turned the key the other direction to turn it off. “Good work kiddie.” Peter returned to Bucky’s side, “I’m almost positive I never would’ve been able to do that without you. A real trooper there, Pete.” 

“Ice-cream?” Peter asked hopefully, flashing puppy eyes at Bucky. 

“Go ask your dad, I’ll go get washed up.” 

Peter nodded excitedly, running to his dad. 

“Daddy?” Both Harley and his father still had their heads buried under the hood of the car they’d been working on. Tony lifted his head, narrowly missing smashing his head on the hood of the car. Harley looked up as well, but when he saw it was just Peter, returned his attention to the engine. 

“What’s up, Bambi?” 

“Bucky’s takin’ me for some ice-cream, okay?” Peter moved to go find Bucky again, but his dad caught him by the arm before he could. 

“Woah, woah,” Tony tilted his head, “first, that’s not how we ask, and secondly, what happened to you?” The man’s fingers ran along Peter’s motor oil decorated chin. 

“Sorry,” Bucky came up behind Peter, handing Tony a wet paper towel for Peter’s face, “got ahead of ourselves with fixing that old beat up Toyota.” Tony eyed the man before taking the paper towel and wiping his son’s face down carefully. 

“He was such a big help, getting me everything I needed and being the best engine starter I’ve ever seen, I kind of promised him some ice cream?” Bucky flashed an embarrassed smile. 

“Please, Daddy?” Peter flashed his dad the same puppy eyes he’d given Bucky when asking for ice-cream. 

Tony looked between the two, then sighed. “Alright, fine. Only one scoop, please. I don’t need him hyper.” 

“You’ve got my word,” Bucky grinned, setting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

The man moved to pull Peter away when Tony called again, “are those handprints on his back?” 

“’s okay,” Peter called, “asthma, Daddy!” Tony’s face twisted into something of concern and confusion. 

“He’s fine, we’ll be back!” Bucky said hurriedly, pulling Peter along. “You sir, are not good under pressure.” 

“Am so,” Peter gaped, “maybe you’re not, Bucky.” 

“Maybe,” Bucky laughed, “no one’s as bad as Steve though.” 

Peter eyed Bucky’s playful smile before giggling at him again. “I’m tellin’ Stee-eve~” 

“Hey now,” Bucky huffed, flexing his hand for Peter to take. The boy placed his smaller one in Bucky’s hand and Bucky gave him a playful squeeze, “only one of us has money for ice-cream.” 

Peter stared up at Bucky’s mischievous grin before continuing in his sing-song voice, “I’m NOT tellin’ Stee-eve!” 

“That’s what I thought,” Bucky snorted a laugh. 

It was nice to just have some ice-cream with Bucky. Peter didn’t feel like he had to try and be the good kid he had to for his dad. To please the man and get along with Harley. It was just him and Bucky, like it always was when they’d go get ice-cream, or go to the playground together. 

Plus, by the time they got back to the garage, his daddy was working alone on the car- which could only mean Pepper had come to pick up Harley. 

Awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has been introduced! I love him, so, y'know. Bucky's character is like WWII Bucky with Steve and Peter, but he's Infinity Wars Bucky with everyone else... if that makes any sense?
> 
> As always, comments are greatly appreciated- as are kudos, you guys subscribing and also bookmarking! All is wonderful to see! Let me know if there's anything ya'll wanna see in this fic and I'll try to make it happen :) (Also, I'm @boww-tiez on Tumblr if you wanna talk!)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and see you next update!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we've got a bit of me trying to figure out how to give a little bit of backstory for the kiddos and some of the other Avengers. And I choose to do this with a date?? I couldn't tell you why, since I'm uncultured, so it's probably terrible XD
> 
> Do feel free to correct me on anything date wise in the comments. True to my word, trying to work on my romantic writing (just a smidge) :0

“You’re all set for the night?” Tony asked slowly adjusting the cuffs on his suit jacket. It was a nice suit, but not as business casual as he’d wear to a Stark Industries meeting. He pulled it back a bit, not wanting to overdue it. 

Peter was sprawled along the couch, eyes focused on the television that was playing some Disney movie the man didn’t feel compelled to remember in this moment. 

"We usually are,” Steve snorted. “We’re good, right, Pete?” 

“Mhm,” the boy hummed, attention not shifting away from the tv in the slightest. 

“Right,” Tony nodded, “okay. There’s money to order take-out if Peter wants it- since I’m sure he’s a mindless zombie right now.” 

“Sure,” the blonde hair mand grinned, “money for take-out, got it.” 

“Bedtime’s still eight- no eight-thirty tonight since he didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll be surprised if he even makes it to eight. Anyways, as always. Help yourself to anything. I don’t care.” 

“You’re talking to me like I’m a teenaged babysitter,” Steve snorted, “I know all this.” 

“I know,” Tony shook his head, “I’m just a bit nervous. Pepper and I have our first night alone together in weeks. As much as I like bowling with the gutter guards up and strolling around the zoo with kids pulling us every direction.” 

“I get it,” Steve nodded, “you have fun tonight. I know Peter and I will, well, until he gets cranky and tired-” 

“I won’t,” the boy huffed, glancing towards the two before his eyes drifted back to his film. 

“Yeah, yeah, you little eavesdropper,” Tony shook his head fondly. “Even when they look focused elsewhere, they’re still listening.” 

“Nuh uh,” Peter muttered again, this time without looking away from the screen. 

Tony rolled his eyes fondly as Steve gave an exasperated huff, while grinning widely at boy’s father. 

“You’re gonna be late, Daddy,” Peter hummed, eyes following the character along the screen of the television. The man looked down at his watch, noting that he in deed was going to be late. The man blew out a quiet breath, stepping towards his son to ruffle his hair fondly then lean forwards to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Love you, Bambino,” the man whispered into the boy’s hair, then stood to full height, “you be a good boy for Steve, hear me?” 

“Hear you,” Peter parroted uninterestedly, then with a bit more character, “love ya too, Daddy!” 

“Good boy,” Tony grinned, heart lighting up. “Call if you need me, Pepper won’t mind.” 

“We won’t need you,” Steve promised, slipping onto the couch behind Peter and pulling the child by his feet so his feet were in Steve’s lap and he could tickle them. Peter squealed, kicking his feet to get away from Steve's fingers. 

“I know,” Tony laughed, “alright. I’m out. See you tomorrow, honey. Please don’t wait up for Daddy this time, alright?” 

“Awh...” Peter frowned, but it was replaced with a grin when Steve ran a finger across the sole of Peter’s foot, “I promise, Daddy!” 

“Good man,” the man laughed. “Okay, bye!” 

He heard goodbyes from both Steve and Peter. Peter’s softer as his interest was more on the TV that he father. The man chuckled to himself as he pulled the door closed behind himself. 

Tony got into his car, ready to get to Pepper’s penthouse to pick her up. He’d arranged a nice dinner for the two of them at a nice restaurant. A secluded table towards the back of the restaurant. It costed a bit more, but it was worth it for the isolation that came with it. 

They were free to discuss whatever they wanted to without anyone else listening. 

He waited patiently outside Pepper’s building, scrolling through his phone after responding to the ‘ _be down in a couple minutes_ ’ text he’d received. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes before Pepper was pulling the passenger’s side door open and slipping into the seat. 

“Good evening,” Tony grinned at her, “you’re looking ravishing.” 

“Hello,” Pepper smiled, turning her head away to grab the seat belt, “and I can say the same to you. Are you ever not in a suit?” 

“Well, I didn’t think motor oil stained t-shirts would stand in a fancy joint like where we’re heading,” the man grinned, “plus, I didn’t want to disappoint. You look beautiful, and I can’t possibly lead you in to a classy restaurant in anything less than this, especially when you’re wearing this.” Tony’s hand gestured to Pepper’s dress. 

“You flirt,” Pepper teased, “motor oil doesn’t bother me, I like a man who can work." 

“It’s what I do best,” Tony shrugged, giving the woman a half smile. 

Casual conversation continued on as the man drove them to the fancy restaurant. Tony parked the vehicle, then turned slightly to grin at Pepper. 

“Shall we?” 

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, then huffed a quiet breath before smiling and finally humming a soft, “we shall,” to appease the man. Tony laughed, grinning widely as he pushed his door open. He would’ve rounded to Pepper’s door to open it for her, but she beat him too it- throwing her door open and stepping out to join him. 

They walked in together, hand in hand, and Tony gave his last name in order to be seated at the nice table he’d booked. The hostess led them to their table, smiling politely as he explained that the waiter would be with them shortly. 

Tony did pull Pepper’s chair out for her, and the woman rolled her eyes fondly at him, sitting down nonetheless. It was a small victory, but Tony would take it. He sat himself across from her, scooting his chair in, then draping the napkin in his lap. Pepper did the same. 

They’d both gone to enough fancy business meals to know the proper etiquette for a place like this. 

“So,” Tony raised an eyebrow, “how’d you manage to get out without your kiddo?” 

“He’s at a sleepover tonight,” Pepper laughed, “one of his friends turned eleven and he’s at the sleepover party. How about you? Where’s Peter this evening?” 

“Sleepovers are always great,” Tony nodded, “Pete’s staying in with my friend, Steve, tonight. Bucky, Steve’s husband, is working late at the garage so he’d have been alone tonight. I was a bit afraid Peter was going to lose it when I left, poor kid’s exhausted. He hasn’t been sleeping well recently.” 

“Oh, poor baby,” Pepper frowned. “Is he alright?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Tony nodded, “he just watched something he probably shouldn’t have. It’s mostly my fault, I didn’t think it would freak the kid out quite like it did.” 

“What did he watch?” Pepper’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Coraline,” the man sighed, “I hadn’t seen the film either, so I didn’t really think to be ready for any scary bits to sensor out. Pete’s a little sensitive. I don’t mind him coming to join me at night though, he at least sleeps a bit more after he wakes up.” 

“Coraline?” Pepper questioned, then her lips pulled into a frown, “that... that’s one of Harley’s favorite movies.” Pepper seemed to be thinking, “this was... when Harley slept over at your place, wasn't it?” 

“Yeah,” Tony raised an eyebrow, “why?” 

“That kid,” Pepper sighed, “I told him not to be watching that at your house. The rating is for children, but it’s a bit scary for some kids. Harley’s into that kind of stuff, but not everyone is- and I guess Peter isn’t. I’m sorry, I probably should’ve warned you, but I didn’t think he’d-” 

“No, no,” Tony smiled, “it’s fine. Really. Pete’s okay. Let me tell you, he watched a couple minutes of The Conjuring a while back when Rhodey didn’t know he was there. The kid slept in my bed for a solid month. I don’t know if your kid has ever stared at you while you were sleeping to make sure you don’t start levitating, but it’s kinda creepy to wake up too.” 

Pepper laughed at this, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled. Tony smiled warmly at her; she had the cutest laugh. “I shouldn’t laugh,” Pepper said while laughing a bit more, “I’m sorry. The poor little guy must’ve been terrified.” 

“A bit,” Tony admitted, “but he’s fine now. Peter’s a tough little cookie. He’ll make it through it- and if I lose some sleep staying awake to make sure he’s alright, so be it.” 

“I’m glad,” Pepper’s lip twitched upwards into a smile. “So, tell me more about these friends of yours, Harley talked a bit about a Bucky down at the garage when I picked him up? He rambled on about _Tony this_ , and _Bucky that_ , and _that car engine was so cool, mom!_ ” Pepper’s voice was a weird mix of high and low as she pretended to imitate Harley’s ten-year-old voice. 

“He was actually a pretty big help that day,” Tony informed, “Pete’s just not into cars. He loves to tinker, but he couldn’t care less about engines, or cars in general- unless he’s taking apart his RC cars to see how _those_ run.” 

“Harley’s always down to get his hands dirty. He’s got a whole collection of matchbox cars. It’s been a fascination of his since he was very little.” Pepper snorted. 

“It’s a good trait,” Tony beamed, “and there’s not much to say about the guys- and Nat. Can’t forget her. Met James, or Rhodey as I nicknamed him, in High School. I was a couple years younger, but we were in the same class. Back when schools were all for kid skipping grades. 

“Rhodey and I met James, this James was nicknamed Bucky for his last name, when Rhodey’s car broke down. He was just a grease monkey then, learning the ropes in an internship at the garage. But he was good, y’know? I’d grown up fixing cars and working on engines, but Rhodey was hesitant to let the fourteen-year-old take a look. Bucky did a fine good job on the car. 

“Bucky introduced us to Steve, they were dating, and honestly way to sappy and gross to be considered civil. You’ve never seen PDA until you’ve sat in a diner with James Barnes and Steve Rogers. 

“And Nat I’d known for years and years. She’s from Russia, a couple years younger than I am. My dad was having me help with her English so she could live a life here. Now she’s better than I am at English most of the time,” The man laughed. 

“Wow,” Pepper smiled, leaning closer to the man across from her. “I really should meet these people. They sound like a great bunch.” 

“They are,” Tony agreed, “I don’t know if I could’ve survived having a little one around without them.” 

“That’s very sweet,” Pepper cooed. “I’m glad you have people like that in your life.” 

“Yeah, they’re pretty amazing,” Tony gave Pepper a small half smile. Tony knew he had a pretty amazing group of friends. Someone was always available, and everyone loved Peter to pieces. He trusted them with not only how own life, but his sons as well. 

“What about you?” Tony asked, snagging a breadstick from a basket in the center of the table and taking a bite, “you have anyone like that?” 

“Oh, no, not really,” Pepper tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “it’s just been Harls and I for quite a while- I mean, we’ve got friends but no one... no one quite as important. Some distant relatives we get holiday cards from but never see, you know?” Pepper waved a dismissive hand. 

“What happened to Mister Potts, if you don’t mind me asking? Totally don’t answer if I’ve over stepped. I do that sometimes,” Tony gave a nervous laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck, flashing Pepper a small smile. 

“No, no,” Pepper was quick to wave off his worry, “it’s fine. I don’t mind telling. He... he wasn't a very nice man. Didn’t like Harley too much. He just kind of... he left one afternoon? He left Harley all alone. He’d been, what? Maybe five years old then? And I come home to find him parked in front of the TV, mindlessly watching movies. 

“Said his dad went to get scratchers from the 7-11. He just didn’t come back. I had a lawyer track him down and he willingly signed over full custody to me. Refused to see Harley, not that Harley cared. It was a two-way street for him. He didn’t like his dad as much as his dad didn’t care for him.” 

Pepper was staring down at her hands, intertwined on the table. Tony reached out to cover hers with his own, and when she looked up, he gave her a careful smile, “that guy sounds like an asshole.” 

“He was,” the woman gave a watery laugh. 

Tony went to open his mouth to respond, but the waiter came to their table to ask about drinks. The man ordered a bottle of wine for the table, knowing he was the designated driver and couldn’t really drink much more than a single glass of wine. He had a high alcohol tolerance from his party days before Peter was born. A glass of wine wouldn’t do anything for him. 

“You remembered my favorite kind of wine,” Pepper fluttered her eyelashes at the man across from her as the waiter left to get the requested bottle of ages wine. 

“Of course, I did,” Tony laughed, “I remember little things people I’m interested in tell me.” 

“A charmer,” Pepper breathed adorningly under her breath, almost sarcastically. Tony laughed, bowing his head to her. 

“What about Mrs Stark?” Pepper raised a curious eyebrow. 

“It’s nothing like that,” Tony gave a small smile, “we never were... well, anything really.” 

“Oh?” Pepper tilted her head in curiosity. She looked so interested and focused completely on the man, that Tony couldn’t help but continue. 

“We’d met at a science thing, she was a brilliant scientist, and I’d been invited to share some Stark Industries products we were developing. We had a bit too much to drink at the bar across the street, and well,” Tony gave a bashful smile, “happy accident?” 

The man paused, glancing towards the waiter who brought them the aged wine in an iced bucket. Tony watched as the waiter opened the wine, then poured a reasonable amount into each of their wine glasses before returning the wine to the bucket and leaving with a promise to be back for their meal orders in the following minutes. 

“Those are the best kind,” Pepper continued as if they hadn’t been interrupted by the waiter. She grabbed her own wine glass, giving a small sniff before taking a tentative sip and giving the man across form her a smile, “so where is she now?” 

Tony grabbed his own wine glass, swirling the liquid around before taking his own sip. The man stared off for a second, blinking a couple times before he looked back towards Pepper. Tony leaned in to continue where he’d left off. 

“Oh, uh, she’s passed away actually. Happened when Peter was still pretty young. I mean, he didn’t see her anyways, so it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. She didn’t really want anything to do with him. Sighed over all her rights the day he was born. Refused to even hold him in the hospital. I hadn’t known at the time, but she’d been married. Her husband was mad about her going to the convention, she was mad about him being mad and I was just too wasted and she was too pretty for any coherent thoughts. 

“Richard was a nice guy though. They worked things out. And I didn’t get pounded to a pulp, and nine months later, Peter came into the world. She and Richard would send cards for his birthdays, but he never saw them once. They, uh, they passed away in a car accident just after Peter’s second birthday.” 

“That’s terrible,” Pepper shook her head distraughtly, “I can’t imagine ever just signing all my rights away to my child. I could never do that to Harley. I can’t even fathom not holding him the second I able to either.” 

“I know,” Tony sighed, tapping his finger against his chin, “I couldn’t understand it either- Peter was the sweetest little baby. Barely cried. He was a bit premature so he spent some time in the NICU, but all he wanted to do was lay on you. Feel the skin on skin and he’d be the sweetest little guy around.” 

“Sounds adorable,” Pepper grinned, “they grow up so fast, don’t they?” 

“It unbelievable,” Tony laughed. “They’re so big already, I remember being able to hold Peter in my palms-” the man cupped his hands together as if to show how small Peter had been. 

“I know,” Pepper smiled. “I miss them being babies.” 

“I agree,” the man nodded his head, eyes bright with happiness. 

The waiter returned and they each ordered their meal of choice as they sipped on some of the aged wine they’d been brought. 

Dinner was lovely, filled with light conversation (lighter than the missing significant other topic) and some delicious food that left them both filled. Pepper had ordered a pasta dish, and Tony a steak. They shared bites of their meals, enjoying the tastes together. 

The steak had been cooked to perfection, and the pasta freshly made and sauced in a simple but elegant red sauce. Both had been amazing, well, for the atmosphere they were in at least. It wasn’t an ideal meal, no matter how nice it tasted, or how expensive it was. 

“This was good,” Tony mumbled when the food was gone, “but it doesn’t quite hit the spot like a burger does.” 

“Very true,” Pepper laughed, “the next date will definitely be to a burger joint. I can always go for a good burger.” 

“How are you real,” Tony joked, “the perfect woman.” 

Pepper gave a light huff, eyes a mix of fond and exasperated with Tony’s words. 

The bill was delivered to the table, and Tony had been just a smidge faster at grabbing it than Pepper had. He slipped his credit card in the leather book to be swiped and Pepper gave him a playful scowl. 

“If you’re buying here, I’m buying burgers next time.” 

“It’s a date then,” Tony chirped, grinning jokingly at her. Pepper’s playful exterior broke into a fit of giggles as the waiter took Tony’s card to be charged. They remained seated until Tony’s card was returned, along with the receipt for the meal (which Tony avidly refused to let Pepper see). 

“Well,” Tony sighed as he pulled Pepper’s car door open. She didn’t say anything, but her cheeks lit up with the faintest blush which had Tony smiling to himself, “I best be getting you home, and relieving my babysitter for the evening. Bucky’s bound to be waiting for him.” 

They both chuckled as Tony closed the passenger’s door and rounded to the driver’s side, getting in himself. 

“It’s passed eight, we’re late,” Pepper joked when the car’s dashboard flashed on and the digital clock lit up with the time, “you’re lucky my body guard’s at a sleepover tonight or you’d be in trouble, Mister.” 

“Ah,” Tony laughed at Pepper’s jokingly stern face, “that’s worse than the dad talk. Sons have so much more pull than fathers, let me tell you. I best be on my best behavior when your security’s around.” 

“You’d better,” Pepper huffed a laugh. “I had fun tonight.” 

“Did you?” Tony’s playful grin brightened, “I did as well, sweetheart. We should do this more often. That is, if we can slip away from the little folks for a bit.” 

“I’m sure I could sneak out the window if worse comes to worst,” Pepper joked. Tony laughed, slipping his hand off the steering wheel to settle on Pepper’s knee. The woman’s hand settled on top of his only moments later and she squeezed, slipping her fingers in the gap between Tony’s thumb and index finger. 

There was a sort of silence in the car. In no way was it uncomfortable- in fact, it was a pretty calming silence. It felt like in no time at all that Tony was pulling into the parking lot behind Pepper’s building. 

Neither moved for a second, hands still locked together and resting in Pepper’s lap. 

“I’d really like to make use of the empty penthouse and invite you up for some more wine,” Pepper breathed out, eyes travelling up from they’re interlocked hands to Tony’s face. 

Tony bit his bottom lip, his own eyes eyeing up Pepper’s frame to settle on her face as well. Her eyes were bright, and he wanted nothing more than to take her up on the offer but- “I really wish I could, Sweetheart, but I should be getting home to Pete.” 

“I understand,” Pepper grinned, “If I had to be getting home to Harley, it would be a whole ‘nother scenario all together. Babies come first, always.” 

“Yeah,” Tony sighed out, he agreed wholeheartedly, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed to be passing on Pepper’s perfect invitation, “I’m sorry, Pep. I don’t think Steve would mind, but Peter will if he wakes up and I’m still not home.” 

“It’s no problem,” the woman whispered, leaning across the center divider to press her lips again Tony’s cheek. Then she continued, whispering against his skin, “I won’t lie though, the devoted father look is really hot on you.” 

Tony’s own cheeks flushed as he turned his head, bumping his nose against Pepper’s. His eyes flicked down to her lips, coloured with a pale lipstick that looked as if it could be her natural lip tint. 

“Is it?” he whispered huskily, lips barely half a millimeter away from hers, “you’re making it awfully hard for me to leave here, sweetheart...” 

“That’s not my intention,” Pepper’s voice matched his now, whispering as if they were teenagers afraid of their parents catching them making out in the car, “I just didn’t want you to leave without this...” and then Pepper’s lips were on his. 

The kiss was slow and sweet. A perfect way to end the evening, giving both the touch they’d been missing and craved wholeheartedly whenever they were apart (or together but with their children). 

When they finally pulled apart, Tony drew in a breath. So, maybe he’d forgotten to breath for a bit there, it was fine. 

“I really did have a good time,” Pepper’s soft hand settled on Tony’s cheek, thumb brushing the faint lipstick mark from where she’d pecked him earlier. Her thumb then lowered to stoke along the side of his jaw. 

“I’m glad, Sweetheart,” Tony’s voice rumbled low in his throat, interest piquing. “I look forward to our next date.” 

“I do too,” Pepper smiled, finally pulling away. Her hand reached for the door, and then she was pushing it open and stepping out of the car. 

“Should I walk you to the door?” Tony asked kindly. 

Pepper shook her head, “as sweet and gentlemanly as that is, I’m fine, Hun. You just get home to your boy, and I’ll enjoy a couple movies in my pajamas before going to bed early.” 

“Sounds like heaven,” Tony huffed fondly, watching just a little bit sadly as Pepper grinned at him. 

“That was what we were going to be doing if you’d decided to join me upstairs,” the woman laughed, “what did you think we were going to be doing?” 

The tease in her tone had the man blushing once more, but before he could respond, Pepper had closed the door of the car, waving through the window with a laugh before walking up the path and entering her building. 

Tony waited for her to be safely inside the building (as well as in the elevator which he could see from the glass lobby) before he pulled away from the curb and continued home. 

\---- 

Back at the house, Tony was not at all surprised to find yet another kids movie playing on the television in the living room. It was just after eight-thirty now, but before Tony could be exasperated for his son still being awake after informing Steve of the boy’s trouble sleeping, he stepping closer. 

The television playing the children’s film was illuminating the room, the only source of light in the room. Tony could see Peter’s small frame, obviously asleep, curled into Steve’s lap. The boy’s head and upper body were in the blonde man’s lap, and his legs pulled up and tucked in close right beside Steve, who was sitting awake, and now looking at Tony. 

“How was it?” Steve asked, fingers still trailing through Peter’s hair unconsciously. 

“Good,” Tony gave the man a little smile, eyes darting to his son, “how’s the movie?” 

“Oh,” Steve smiled, gaze also slipping to Peter, “you know how much I love watching Finding Nemo.” Tony raised an eyebrow. He knew how much Steve disliked kid’s movies in general. The guy was born in the wrong decade, Tony always teased. He was about as cellphone illiterate as a ninety-year-old grandmother. 

“Was he good?” the man asked instead of commenting on Steve’s dislike for the films Peter watched. 

“Isn’t he always?” Steve countered, fingers stopping to tousle with a strand of Peter’s curls. Tony gave the man a blank look, gesturing to the small boy passed out in Steve’s lap instead of his bed. 

“He started in his bed,” Steve promised, “couldn’t settle down. Missed you, I think.” 

Tony’s heart swelled. What did he do to deserve Peter? Such a cute, and sweet little boy. He really didn’t deserve his son. Tony rounded the couch, leaning down to hoist the sleeping body to his chest and cuddle him tight. 

It was moments like this that made Tony happy he’d passed on Pepper’s offer of joining her upstairs. 

“You’re free to go,” Tony sent his friend a smile, “thank you for coming to look after him. Now, though, I’m sure your husband is waiting for you.” 

“It was no trouble,” Steve raised a hand in modest deflection. “I love spending time with Peter.” 

“And he loves spending time with all of you,” Tony hummed, “now I should get him to bed.” 

“Okay,” Steve nodded, “I’ll see you around, Tones. I’ll be off now.” 

“Ah, alright. Good night then.” 

“Night.” 

Tony made his way up the stairs with Peter in his arms as he listened to Steve leaving the house, closing the door behind himself and then the man’s motorcycle starting up and driving off. Tony man shook his head to himself, then buried his nose in Peter’s curls as he trekked up the stairs. 

Steve hadn’t been lying when he said Peter couldn’t seem to settle down. The boy’s blankets were laying half on the floor and half on the floor, and Peter’s teddy bear was flopped over halfway under Peter’s bed. 

Tony smiled to himself, moving in to settle Peter on the bed, and continue to tuck him in under the blankets and tuck his bear in beside him. 

Peter barely stirred, breaths slow and even. 

Tony brushed some hair from Peter’s forehead before leaning in to kiss him. 

Nothing could beat moments like this with his son, no matter how good Pepper’s offer was. Priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep... so, y'know, let me know how I did with this lmao. Writing this chapter was really out of my comfort zone, and lemme tell ya, I threw my hands up in complete confusion so many times. I don't know dates, or people. Was it too much? Was it boring? I don't know. Lol
> 
> As always, comments appreciated! Any feedback ya'll wanna give, I'm more than enthusiastic to take! Let me know how I'm doing because I'm out of depth with this fic and idek why. Also, huge thank you to everyone who has been commenting! You all are a big help!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another new chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy~

“It's no problem, Tony, honestly.” Pepper grinned. Her eyes dropped to Peter, leaning back against his dad in her doorway. 

Peter looked up at her, returning her glance as he furrowed his eyebrows and tightened the fist he had gripping his dad’s slacks. Peter was stood in front of his father, with both his Dad’s hands on his shoulders, giving comforting squeezes. 

“I’m serious,” Tony gave a small smile, lifting a hand from Peter’s shoulder to drag the curls covering Peter’s eyes back, “I really hate to spring this on you, but no one else was available- I mean, even Peter’s usual babysitter for when none of his uncles or his aunt can’t watch him, is down with the flu.” 

“That’s fine,” Pepper waved a dismissive hand, “we’ll have loads of fun, right, Hun?” Pepper was looking down at Peter with a bright smile- a smile Peter felt inclined to return. So, he did- he flash one just as bright as hers, and gave a slight nod of his head, despite his own doubt about the evening being fun. 

Peter liked Pepper a lot. She was awesome. And he didn’t have a doubt in his mind that his evening at the Potts house would’ve been awesome- had it not been for the ten-year-old sitting on the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. 

Peter leaned a bit around the woman blocking most of his view into the penthouse, tilting his head at the older boy who caught his eye. Harley, almost as if sensing Peter’s gaze at the back of his head, turned and furrowed his eyebrows. 

"You’re a life saver, Pep,” Tony sighed, hand settling on top of Peter’s head and carefully dragging his nails along the boy’s scalp, “he’d have been so bored if I had to drag him along.” 

Peter agreed with his father. He’d have been completely bored if he’d had to sit around while his dad and uncle Rhodey talked business. Peter wasn’t even sure what they actually talked about- what _business_ was- but it was totally boring. 

“Then it’s a good thing he’s here,” Pepper beamed, “we can order some take out, and watch some movies. Maybe play some video games? Huh, how that sound, Peter?” 

“Good,” Peter accepted, finally loosening his grip on his dad’s pants to step to Pepper’s side. A silent, but understood by his father, gesture that Peter was alright to stay. Tony eyed the boy thoughtfully, trying to decide if Peter was really okay with the situation. 

It was very short notice. A meeting with his best friend, and a military higherup that he’d been trying to get in touch with for weeks. They had some ideas to share about making some aspects of the military bases more ecofriendly without breaking budget. 

People higher up in the military were hard people to get in touch with, so when Rhodey had called that the man was free- but only for that evening before being deployed to another base for a couple weeks- thirty minutes earlier, the man had jumped on the offer. 

With the time crunch it was near impossible to get any of his friends to watch the boy, and Skip had been down with the flu. Thank God for the saving grace that is Pepper Potts. 

Tony blinked down at his son, who now stood beside Pepper. He’d almost expected Peter to be more upset about this, but was surprised Peter was being to accepting of the circumstances. 

Tony took a breath, crouching down and holding his arms open for a hug. Peter grinned, throwing himself into Tony’s waiting arms and cuddling into the embrace as Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s small frame. 

“Be a good boy, alright?” 

“Alright, Daddy,” Peter hummed. 

“Listen to Pepper.” 

“Mhm,” 

“I love you, sweetheart.” 

“Love you too,” Peter mumbled into Tony’s shoulder. The man turned his head to kiss the side of Peter’s head, above his ear before finally letting his kid go. Peter held on a second longer before pulling away and stepping back to stand beside Pepper. 

Tony couldn’t help but reach a hand out to ruffle Peter’s curls before finally standing to his full height again. 

“It shouldn’t be that long,” Tony promised, “I’ll text you if things look like they’ll take a bit. But I’ll be around for him as soon as I can.” 

“That’s fine,” Pepper smiled, “Peter’s welcome here as long as he needs to be. He’s welcome to sleep over as well-” 

Peter looked towards his father with alarmed eyes, seconds away from changing his mind and latching onto his father’s leg. He couldn’t spend the night, because he didn’t have his bear. He couldn’t sleep without his bear- 

“Oh, uh, no, no,” Tony waved a quick dismissive hand, eyes dropping to Peter quickly before returning to Pepper and flashing a bright smile, “no, that’s fine. I’ll come around to pick him up. It won’t be that late, I promise.” 

Peter almost blew out a breath of relief that his dad knew. That his dad defended him against something so small. And Peter knew his dad was being honest. He would come pick Peter up. 

“Alright,” Pepper laughed, “we’ll see you later then, won’t we?” 

“’course,” Tony cleared his throat, “see you, Bambi. I’ll come pick you up as soon as I can, alright?” 

“Alright,” Peter gave what he hoped was a bright smile, “bye Daddy.” 

“Bye honey,” Tony breathed out fondly, “bye Pep, thanks again,” his dad continued, then a bit louder, “see you, Harls.” 

“Bye Tony,” Harley’s voice carried, but his attention was focused on the television. Peter watched with Pepper in the doorway as his dad finally turned to leave, waving once more before stepping into the elevator and disappearing from sight. 

“Come on,” Pepper’s voice drew Peter away from staring at the elevator doors. Pepper’s gentle hands on Peter’s shoulders ushered the boy into the penthouse, then closed the door behind them as Peter continued into the room. 

Harley glanced Peter’s direction, but didn’t really say much. His attention shifted back to the television, which was playing the Discovery channel. Peter perked at the look of the show. He liked the Discovery channel. And Animal Planet- animal documentaries were one of his favorite things to watch. Just after cartoons and how it’s made. 

“So, what are you boys thinkin’ for dinner?” Pepper’s voice carried from the kitchen. 

It was then, Peter noticed, that he was stood stiffly beside the couch. He hadn’t even realized it. Peter scuffed a socked foot on the hardwood anxiously, it didn’t make any noise. 

Harley glanced over his shoulder to look into the kitchen, but caught sight of Peter and furrowed a curious eyebrow, then continued to catch a glance at his mother. 

“Maybe pizza?” Harley suggested, “from that, uhm, you know, that place we usually get from?” 

“That sounds good,” Pepper agreed, “what do you think, Peter? You didn’t seem to like the pizza from that Pizzaria very much?” 

“I like pizza,” the youngest promised quietly. “Cheese pizza.” 

“Cheese pizza it is then, that work for you, Harls?” 

“Sure,” the older boy grinned. “Can we get the breadsticks too, mum?” 

“Of course,” Pepper agreed with a grin, “and extra of the marinara sauce you like, right, honey?” 

“Yeah, awesome!” Harley grinned, “why don’t you come sit down, Pete?” 

Peter eyed the older boy, trying to decide whether the smile on Harley’s face looked at all evil, or if it was just a plain fake one to fool his mother. Either way, Peter took the chance, trudging to the couch and sitting down. He was far from Harley, but still close enough that it wouldn’t look like Peter thought the older boy was the plague with how much distance he put between them. 

Harley seemed pleased when Peter sat beside him, then looked up his mom with a smile. 

“Well,” Pepper started, glancing at the two on the couch, “I’ll go order the food while you finish watching your show, alright? After we eat Peter, Harley said he’s going to set his Nintendo Switch up in here so the two of you can play some video games, how’s it sound?” 

Peter’s eyes drifted to the older boy to see where he stood on this. Was Harley being pressured into it? Was this Pepper’s idea? Did Harley actually not want Peter touching the device? He had some Legos in his backpack, so even if Pepper thought it was a good idea, but Harley looked like he might not agree, Peter wouldn’t be too bored. 

But Harley didn’t look annoyed, or unimpressed at the aspect of playing video games with Peter. At having Peter play with his game. 

“Okay,” the younger whispered, more to Harley than Pepper. But he was sure that Pepper heard as well, as he smiled widened and she excused herself to the kitchen to phone the pizza place. 

Peter sat frozen on the edge of the couch, knees together and hands locked together and resting on his knees. He didn’t know what to be thinking. This... this wasn’t the Harley he usually saw. The one who told him what to do, or the one who stood back and let his friend pick on Peter and Ned. 

“You don’t have to look so scared,” Peter’s eyes shot to Harley, who rolled his eyes. “Relax, will ya? I’m not gonna do anything, alright? Trust me, Kid. Just... put it behind us for the night. We’ll pretend we don’t go to school together. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but our parents are, are, like, dating, ‘kay?” 

“Uhm,” Peter blinked, “okay.” 

“Good.” Harley seemed satisfied, “don’t expect this at school tomorrow. And if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it. I’m doing this for my mom, and I’m sure you’re doing the same for your dad. So we can put on a show, right?” 

And that was true. Peter was trying to be okay with all this for his father. Because he could see the change Pepper and Harley brought. He saw how much happier his dad was, how he was more cheerful. 

And if that meant Peter had to suffer a little with Harley when neither Pepper or his dad were around, then he’d suffer. And clearly Harley was doing the same for his mom. Pepper didn’t know if Pepper had changed any. He didn’t know what their life was before Pepper met his dad, but he could only hope that she liked him as much as his dad liked her. 

“Right,” Peter gave a small nod. He managed to relax himself a little bit. Leaning back on the couch just a tad bit. Harley, if possible, seemed to relax even further into the couch. 

“We can keep our school life and home life separate, right?” Harley’s voice was quiet, just for Peter to hear. That had been something his mom had said to him when one of her old employees before she started working at Stark Industries kept asking her on dates. 

Thankfully she always declined. Harley was not a fan of Killian. But the quote stuck with him. 

“Yeah,” Peter muttered with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t totally sure what Harley meant, but he had a basic idea. And he could put in the effort if Harley was willing to too. 

“Now, you like discovery?” Harley asked, flicking his attention to the boy beside him, “we can put on cartoons or somethin’ instead. I don’t care. Mom said I wasn’t allowed to watch any movies while you were here after Coraline.” 

Peter squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of Coraline, blinking them open with a jolt, then gave a hum of agreement, “I like this channel. How it’s made is cool.” 

Harley seemed to observe the younger boy, eyeing him closely, almost as if he didn’t believe the boy, “yeah, how it's made it pretty cool.” 

Whatever flicker of emotion Peter say in the older boy’s eyes was gone just as fast as it appeared, leaving Peter to huff a breath and sink a little more into the couch. It was comfy, but not like the one at home. 

It wasn’t much later that Pepper returned, walking into the room. She bit her bottom lip to fight off the smile she wanted to show. There was just something so... cute. Domestic, about the boys- her son and Tony’s little boy- both sitting together, completely engrossed in the television program. 

“Pizza will be here in twenty. Did you wanna get the door, honey?” 

“Sure, mum,” Harley gave a determined nod. Pepper was starting to let Harley handle some more adulty jobs, and collecting food deliveries and paying happened to be one he liked the most- or, he liked it more over doing the dishes at least. 

Pepper was always ready to step in if someone said anything (like the delivery person) or gave her boy a hard time about it. 

Peter barely looked away from the TV as Harley and Pepper spoke together. Pepper was getting her credit card from her wallet for Harley to pay with, and Harley was asking about the password on the card. 

Peter couldn’t care less about her card, or Harley collecting the pizza- at least not while the discovery channel was playing a rather intriguing show about how different flavors of jelly beans were made. 

Pepper sat herself directly between the two, and Peter was a little happy that there was a border between himself and Harley now, not that he’d ever say that out loud. The show played on, and maybe twenty minutes later, the buzzer rang meaning the pizza had arrived. 

Before Peter really knew what happened, there was a plate in his lap, an open pizza box on the coffee table, as well as an open bread sticks box and an array of dips for the bread sticks and pizza. 

Despite this being a brand Peter had never tried before, he grabbed a slice and nibbled on the edge of it. It smelt good, and it tasted alright, so he took a bigger bite. Pepper smiled proudly at him as she took a bite of her own slice. 

“My mom must like you a lot, Peter. We never get to eat in the living room.” Harley’s voice teased. Harley’s gaze slyly settled on Pepper, who rolled her eyes fondly at the boy. 

Peter looked towards Pepper too, tilting his head. Peter and his dad ate in the living room all the time. Especially when there was an interesting documentary or something on TV. Ned’s family was the same as he and his dad, so hearing this was strange to Peter. 

It was weird but also kinda cool to see what Harley’s life with Pepper was like. He kinda liked it. 

“Hush you,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “We’d eat in here more if you didn’t eat like a little piggy and spill your food everywhere.” 

“That was one time,” Harley threw his head back with a groan, “and I was like, five.” 

“A mother never forgets,” Pepper grinned jokingly, “just like that time you ran around the hallways nak-” 

“Please don’t finish that!” When Peter’s attention shifted to Harley, the older boy’s cheeks were bright red, and for once, his glare was directed at his mother instead of Peter, “Peter doesn’t care about that... right?” 

Peter gave a sharp nod, not wanting to disturb whatever truce they’d made for the evening. He glanced at Pepper to see if she was offended, but she just laughed, looking happy. 

“Fine, fine,” Pepper cleared her throat before taking another bite of pizza. “After dinner, the two of you can play Harley’s game for a while. Not too long though, you know the rules, Harley.” 

“Yes, mom,” Harley responded immediately, right before taking another bite of his bread stick. 

“We can watch some movies after you’re finished with the game, alright? I have to look over a few emails for work, so I’ll be in my bedroom, alright boys?” 

“Sure,” Harley nodded, “we’ll be fine, right, Peter?” 

“Mm, yeah,” Peter forced a smile. No one noticed his smile, or the small amount of hesitance he had with being alone with Harley. 

When they were all finished with their food, Peter helped Pepper tidy up while Harley took to connecting his Nintendo Switch to the tv in the living room. There was some extra pizza and a couple breadsticks leftover. 

It was quick to do the dishes, Pepper washing and Peter drying. He wanted to help, even though Pepper told him he didn’t have to. Drying was Peter’s job at home when he’d help his dad with the dishes. 

When everything was tidy, Peter found himself sitting on the other side of the couch, beside Harley with the left controller of the Switch in his hand. The system was loading Mario Kart, which Peter wasn’t too good at. 

“Alright,” Pepper’s voice came from behind the couch. Both Peter and Harley glanced back at her, “I’ll be in my room. Behave please. Yell if you need me- the door is the second on the left side, okay, honey?” Pepper’s hand brushed through Peter’s curls, then quieter she continued to the younger boy, “come find me if you need me.” 

“Alright,” Peter gave her a nod and a warm smile. 

“Good. The bathroom in the first door down the hallway, and I’m sure Harley can help with anything you need, right, Harls?” 

“Right, mom,” Harley gave her his own bright smile. 

“Okay, well,” Pepper bit her bottom lip, then flashed a smile, “I’ll leave you boys to it. An hour, Harley. Remember.” 

“Got it,” the older boy waved his hand dismissively as he directed the game towards the select a character part. 

The game was surprisingly fun, even facing off against Harley who was older and definitely played a bunch more than Peter ever had. 

Peter’s dad had a Nintendo Switch in the house (they had just about every game console), but Peter rarely used it. And when he did, it was to play Lego games. 

Peter even managed to win a couple rounds, whether it was Harley letting him win, or his own merit, the boy couldn’t decide. But it was fun nonetheless. 

Harley was being fun. 

They were conversing a bit, talking about the game, and shared interests. Which was surprising. 

Harley seemed intrigued by the garage lab in Peter’s house. And even more so that Peter got to go in and tinker. Peter liked being able to brag about something to the older boy. Something as cool as all the tools and trinkets in his dad’s lab. He’d practically grown up in the lab. 

They did not, however, talk about school at all. Not about Flash. Not about Ned. Not about homework, or the stupid assemble all the grades had been forced to attend. Not a single aspect of school was spoken about. 

Which Peter didn’t mind. If they didn’t talk about it, they could pretend it didn’t happen. It was easier that ways anyways. 

And if Peter thought about it just the right way, he could see himself and Harley maybe even being friends. At the end of the school day when there was no influence from Flash, or Harley’s other friends. When it was just Peter and Harley- and their parents. 

And that didn’t sound that bad. Not if Harley was nice like he was right now. 

“Y’know, the wheels you’ve got on your car slows you down, right?” 

Peter looked up at Harley from where he’d been focused on the controller in his hands, gaping like a fish and squinting at the boy, before turning and squinting at the television, “really?” 

“Yeah,” Harley snorted, “especially for tracks like these.” 

“Can I change them?” Peter asked carefully, glaring at the four brightly coloured wheels on his Kart. 

“Sure,” Harley shrugged, “after this game. Can’t just leave, we’re two laps in already.” 

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but someone else’s voice interrupted before he could speak, “I thought I said an hour, young man?” 

Peter’s attention snapped back to Pepper, who was stood in the doorway with her arms crossed across her chest. Peter’s attention then flicked to Harley- the older boy had a sheepish smile on his face as he looked towards his mother. 

Even though he’d just told Peter that they couldn’t exit out of the game they were in, the older boy did just that, as Pepper’s foot tapped on the hardwood floor. 

“We were just finishing this last round?” 

“For twenty minutes?” Pepper’s eyes narrowed. “Turn it off now. We can make some popcorn and watch a couple films, okay?” 

“Okay!” Harley chirped, grabbing the controller from Peter’s lax hands and siding both Peter’s and his own into the charging docks. “We had a lot of fun, mom.” 

“Did you?” Pepper was asking them both, but her eyes fell to Peter’s seeking his thoughts on the evening. 

“Yeah,” Peter gave her an honest smile. He was having fun. This evening had been surprisingly fun. He’d give a solid review to his dad when the man arrived to pick him up later. 

“I’m glad,” Pepper said softly under her breath. 

“I’m going to put pajamas on before we watch movies, okay, mom?” 

“Sure, baby,” Pepper nodded, then her eyes fell to Peter’s jeans and t-shirt. “Do you have any old pjs that Peter can borrow? Some that don’t fit you anymore?” Pepper suggested. Harley grew like a weed, so they were always donating his too small clothes. 

“Uhm, probably,” Harley thought for a second, “I’ll go look.” 

Peter thought about promising them that he’d be fine in his jeans for a couple movies. But these jeans weren’t the comfiest for lounging around. They were already chafing after the day sitting at a desk and then additionally sitting on Pepper’s couch. 

He usually changed out of his jeans as soon as he could- but today he’d sorta been ushered out the door before he could. So, Peter kept his mouth shut and decided to accept whatever pajamas Harley supplied. 

Harley came back wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and a grey t-shirt. And, in his hands was a pair of t-rex patterned pajama pants. “These are the smallest ones I have. I don’t know where the matching shirt is, so I hope you’re comfortable with your shirt.” 

“Thank you,” Peter commented, giving the older boy a small, thankful smile as he took the offered pajamas into his hands. 

“Don’t mention it,” Harley blinked. By Harley’s tone, Harley really _meant_ that. So Peter would definitely not mention it. They’d had a good night so far, and Peter was not going to ruin that. 

“You can go change in the bathroom, Bud,” Pepper called from the kitchen. She’d gone to make popcorn as Harley had left to his bedroom. Peter nodded, despite Pepper not being able to see him. He left quickly, locking himself in the bathroom. 

Pepper used a different type of laundry detergent than his dad did, so the pajamas smelt funny. They were clean, but not like how Peter liked things. But still, it was better than sitting in his jeans for another couple hours. 

He slipped his jeans off, then quickly stepped into the fleece pajama pants. They were nice textural wise, despite not smelling right. 

Peter grabbed his own jeans, scrunching them up in his arms so he could just shove them in his backpack. 

He did just that, before sitting himself on the couch again. Pepper was still making popcorn, but Harley eyed him up and down. 

“What?” Peter asked timidly, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. 

“Nothing,” Harley’s head turned back to the TV, which was paused on the opening credits of How to Train Your Dragon- which Peter loved. 

It was a stark upgrade from Coraline- and Peter didn’t even have to pretend to be okay with the scarier movies. Although Peter was almost sure his dad had something to do with this. Harley liked scarier movies, but he didn’t pick one? 

This had his dad and Pepper written all over it, but Peter was thankful for it. 

The watched the movie, and finished off the large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Harley seemed to be just as into the movie as Peter was, even if it wasn’t scary at all. 

By the time they’d started the second movie, Monsters Inc, Peter was starting to get tired. It was kinda late now. Just past his school night bedtime, so he was tired. It had been a long day. 

On the opposite side of Pepper, Harley had curled a little into his mother, his head falling into her lap, and her fingers carding through his hair as he watched the film. It made Peter miss his dad. 

He returned his attention to the screen, pouting silently with a want for his dad. Peter barely even noticed his eyes drifting shut. 

\---- 

Tony buzzed Pepper’s penthouse almost five hours after leaving Peter there. It was a little later than Tony had expected himself to arrive, but the man they were meeting actually had a bunch of questions, and he was an older gentleman, so it had taken a little longer than it usually would to get the man to understand. 

But it had all worked out. He and Rhodey got the okay to try the system out in Rhodey’s base, where the man could monitor everything. And that was about the best news they could’ve heard. 

It was a couple seconds later that Pepper’s voice replied through the intercom, quiet and thoughtful. She buzzed him up once more, and the man made his way into the building. 

He was excited to hear how the evening went. 

He didn’t even have to knock on the door, since Pepper was waiting for him with it cracked open. When she caught sight of him, she pushed the door open all the way and allowed the man in. 

“I hope he was good,” the man mumbled with a lopsided smile as he pressed a kiss to Pepper’s cheek. She was already changed into a pair of pajamas- which was understandable. It was kind of late. Passed Peter’s bedtime. 

It made Tony feel a little bad that Peter had been kept from bed so long. He did have school tomorrow, and Tony had been stuck at the meeting for wayyy longer then he thought he’d have been. 

“Please,” Pepper rolled her eyes, lightly shoving Tony’s shoulder jokingly, “he was an angel, and you know it.” 

“He may seem sweet, but he can be pretty conniving when he wants to be,” Tony joked, grinning widely as he followed the woman into the nearly silent penthouse. There was a dull murmur of the television playing some kind of show, the volume very low. 

“Oh really?” Pepper raised an eyebrow, “he learned that from his dad then, huh?” 

“Rude,” Tony huffed a light laugh, “he definitely learned it from Steve-” 

“Whom you refer to as the American Boy Scout, taught your son to be conniving?” 

“Well,” Tony drawled, “when you say it like that, I don’t believe me.” 

Pepper laughed quietly, rolling her eyes fondly at the man. 

They both fell silent after that, Tony following behind the woman as she led him further into the penthouse. The man blinked in surprise at seeing Peter, clad in a pair of pajamas he’d never seen before, slumped over himself and curled into a tiny ball, sound asleep. 

Beside Peter, Harley was using his arms as a pillow, equally as asleep as the younger boy. Both their chests rose and fell with even breaths, and it was the most relaxed Tony had seen the two boys together. 

He really couldn’t believe Peter was asleep. Asleep in Pepper’s home. Asleep without his teddy bear. That Peter was comfortable enough with them that he’d fall asleep. 

Tony surveyed the boys thoughtfully, then glanced to Pepper in question. 

“They crashed around nine,” she filled in, arms crossed loosely across her chest and a light adorning smile on her face. “The pajamas don’t fit Harley anymore, so Peter’s welcome to keep them.” 

“Oh,” Tony blinked, “well, thank you. I’m glad he behaved, and thank you again. You really saved me tonight, Sweetheart.” 

“It was no problem,” Pepper tilted her head towards Tony, “Peter’s always welcome here—as are you.” 

Tony huffed a breath, corner of his mouth tipping into another smile. 

“It’s really late. I should... I should be getting him home to bed,” with that, Tony stepped forwards, scooping his sleeping child into his arms and holding him closely. 

“Probably,” Pepper nodded. In her hand was Peter’s backpack, which the man took thankfully and carefully slung over his shoulder without rousing the sleeping boy. “I should get Harley into his bed as well.” 

Peter barely stirred through the movement, only snuggling closer to Tony and burying his face in Tony’s neck. The boy let out a quiet, content sigh, and Tony couldn’t help but lift his second hand to the back of Peter’s head and brush through his curls. 

Tony watched halfheartedly as Pepper kneeled beside Harley’s sleeping face, brushing his bangs from his face as she whispered to him. The boy stirred, blinking sleepily before clumsily shuffling to his feet and making his way down the hallway towards his room. 

Pepper gave one last quiet goodbye as she followed the stumbling boy to make sure he made it to his bed in time. 

Tony took this as his que to leave, seeing himself out and shutting the door behind himself. He hoped Pepper would remember to lock the door after him. 

Peter stirred for the first time as the man settled him in his car seat. The boy shivered lightly from the night chill before relaxing into his chair, head lulling to the side of his care seat. Tony buckled Peter in, silently content that he could since Peter was usually hellbent on doing it himself these days. 

Tony stared at his boy for a silent second, brushing Peter’s curls back and then pressing a kiss to his head. Tony pretended his heart didn’t melt at the tiny twitch upwards of Peter’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we've seen domestic Tony with kiddos and domestic Pepper with the kiddos. I don't know what else to say, I'm posting this at 2AM and I'm very tired lmao. 
> 
> Anywayyys, as always, comments are greatly appreciated! I love seeing what you guys have to say! I love this idea, but I'm still not 100% on how I'm writing it, rip. Gives me the heckin' anxieties.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again-- sorry for the wait! 
> 
> Minor injury in this chapter, as well as Flash being a dick. 
> 
> I'm not gonna lie, I've had this chapter written for just under a week, but kept going back and forth over whether I should post it or not. It's my take on a reader's prompt (which I hope I did some justice on, even if it's not exactly what you wanted). This book still gives me anxiety, but I'll keep trekking forth! 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the 7k+ chapter!

Peter blew out a breath as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His eye was starting to bruise- not a lot, but a clear discolouration in his pale skin. It hurt a bit, but not enough to tell anyone. His eyes were a little teary, but he simply brushed them away with the back of his hand. 

Harley had almost taken a full step back after Peter’s night at the older’s penthouse. It was nice. But... Just because Harley did, that didn’t mean Peter was in the clear. Because he still had to worry about Flash. 

And today, Peter had unfortunately stepped into the restroom at the exact time Flash Thompson was stepping out of the stall. 

The older boy had grinned wide, eyes narrowing scarily playful at the second grader frozen in the doorway. 

“If it isn’t little Penis Stark.” The older boy purred. “Y’know I missed you at lunch, who else was I supposed to shove around?” 

Peter blinked slowly. He’d gone to the library that lunch with Ned. They were watching Star Wars clips from the films on the old student use desktops. Peter turned his attention to the floor as the older boy stepped closer. 

“Harley missed your chubby friend too, it’s just not the same without the two of you crying.” 

“We don’t cry,” Peter raised his eyes in determination for a split second before dropping his gaze to the floor just as fast as it had shot up. 

“Sure,” the older snorted a laughed, “sure you don’t. So the two of you disappear into the school for shits and giggles? Not to wipe your teary eyes in the bathroom?” 

Peter scowled towards the floor, blowing a light breath out of his nose. He knew the older boy was just trying to get him to break, so he wasn’t going to. 

“Nothin’ to say?” the older continued, “how boring. If Chubby were here I’m sure you’d be standing guard over him. It’s not fun when you’re alone.” 

Peter kept his gaze down as the older shoved past him. 

As fate would have it (the we hate Peter Stark Gods probably), Peter’s shoelaces had been untied, and he tripped over them, stumbling to his knees. 

Peter had reached a hand out to try and catch himself, but that had been a failed attempt. Peter cringed as he made contact with the sink. Flash paused in the doorway, watching silently as Peter’s face collided with the bathroom sink. The older boy stared in stunned silence for a second before bursting into laughter. 

It hurt a lot, but the boy kept his noises to himself and his head down to hide the tears rimming his eyes as Flash was practically doubled over with laughter. 

“W-wow,” the older wheezed, “you second graders are too much. I can’t wait to tell the guys.” 

Thankfully, with those words, the bully left the bathroom. Peter reached up to touch the numbed skin under his eye. It had hurt right after, but now it had faded to nothing but discomfort. 

The boy wiped his eyes, wetness wiping away as he pulled himself off the floor. He leaned towards the mirror to look closer. Despite the hit being so recent, under his eye was already starting to shade to a pretty blue that would soon become an ugly purple-ish black colour. 

Had Peter been a normal kid, he would’ve walked straight to the nurse- or even the office. But they’d call his dad. Definitely. His dad was busy with work today. He’d had a business meeting at SI this morning, and then he was going to the garage for the rest of the day. 

And besides, it didn’t _really_ hurt. 

\---- 

Peter had managed to keep his head ducked for the remainder of the class- it wasn’t that different from Peter’s usual lack of eye contact and facing forwards in class. He was a smart kid, but his teachers always gave his dad a hard time about how Peter’s eyes were never on them, or on the board when they were teaching during Parent-Teacher interviews. 

It was Ned, who noticed, as they sat on the bus seat together at the end of the day. Peter had been in first, slinking to his normal seat beside the window- since Ned got off before him and the shuffling around each other was a pain. 

“Woah!” the boy gasped, “what happened to your eye?” 

“Is it noticeable?” Peter winced. He self-consciously lifted his finger to trail over the tender skin. It was starting to hurt more now, and he had a bit of a headache. 

“Is it noticeable?” Ned gaped, “it’s like, like purple, Peter!” Ned was leaning closer to get a better look, but Peter waved him off. 

“It’s okay.” he promised. 

“Was it... was it Flash?” Ned’s voice dropped to a whisper. Peter hesitated- just a second to long- which was all the answer his friend needed. “He hit you?!” 

“No!” Peter yelped, eyes travelling to the bus driver giving them a curious look. Peter instantly looked down, “he didn’t, alright? He, just, y’know, shoved me a bit.” 

“Where?” 

“Bathroom,” Peter sighed, “my laces were untied and I fell. He, I mean, he barely touched me. Honest.” 

“Why didn’t you tell the teacher, or the office? They’d have given you ice- and called your dad to bring you home!” Ned sounded excited. Excited at the aspect of skipping out of school early. Ned really liked Peter’s dad, since his dad wasn’t around much. 

“I’m not telling my dad,” Peter shook his head, “it’s nothing. Doesn’t even hurt.” 

“Shows though,” Ned huffed, “it looks like it hurts. How’re you gonna hide it if you’re not tellin’ your dad?” 

“I...” Peter scowled, “I don’t know.” 

“You could use sunglasses?” Ned suggested, settling back against the seat, “I saw that in a movie, and it worked pretty well- looked super cool too! I mean, no one noticed.” 

“I could,” Peter thought it over. “Yeah... yeah! You’re a genius! Thanks, Ned!” 

“Don’t thank me,” his friend scowled, “I still think you should tell your dad. I’d tell my mom if it was me. She’d probably give me ice-cream to make me feel better-” 

“I’m not telling him,” Peter reminded, though he smiled at his friend’s antics. 

“I know, I know,” Ned deflated, “he’s gonna find out though... I don’t know how, but parents always know, Peter.” 

“He won’t,” Peter shook his head, biting his bottom lip as his eye throbbed. Peter’s gaze fell on his friend, looking at him in disbelief. Peter shook his head mumbling another: “he won’t,” more to himself than to his friend this time. 

\---- 

To get passed the bus driver and into his house without anyone seeing his bruise, Peter had pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down impossibly far. He was sure he’d probably stretched it, and possibly ruined it. But he was desperate. 

His dad would be asking questions if he saw it. He’d want to know how it happened. And Peter would feel obligated to tell him that it was Flash. Yes, Harley’s best friend Flash- and yes, of course Harley too picked on Peter sometimes- oh, and on Ned! Harley and Flash, and their group of- of _bullies_ picked on them every day- called them names and sometimes even shoved them. 

And he didn’t want to do that. He wasn’t sure what his dad would do then. Would his Daddy give Harley a stern talking to? Talk to Pepper? Would they break up? He didn’t want them to break up- he liked Pepper enough, and she made his dad happy. 

By the silence in the house when Peter entered, he could assume his dad was either in the home office, or out in the garage. His car was in the driveway, so he had to be somewhere in the house. 

Peter took this in stride, barely managing to slip his sneakers off before running up the stairs, backpack, jacket and all. He panted slowly, coughing lightly as he closed himself in his bedroom- into safety. 

Now he could strip his bookbag and jacket off, as well as the stretched sweater. He pulled the hood off with a sigh, then pulled the hoodie over his head. 

Peter’s eye was hurting a bit more now- and his head a little too. But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to bring it up. 

The boy glanced around his room, eyes landing on his bear. He grabbed the teddy before stepping to his dresser and looking through his collection of sunglasses. 

Like his dad, Peter had a bunch. To match different outfits and for different occasions. He picked a pair he’d gotten for his birthday. They were just like his dad’s. Really dark so no one could see his eyes under them. 

They were what his dad wore whenever he’d have to do a speech or present something at Stark Industries. 

And they’d be perfect for now. Peter hummed to himself as he slipped the frames onto his face. The room instantly darkened. The boy blinked a couple times to get used to it, before hugging his bear closer. 

It shouldn’t be that hard to keep his bruise a secret, right? It was only from his dad, after all. 

\---- 

“Hey, Kiddo, are you ready?” 

Peter stepped off the bottom step, bear still clutched in his arms. He looked questioningly as his father’s darkened frame. When Peter turned into the kitchen, where his dad was, he noticed that the man’s back was to him, and he wasn’t sure how his dad had seen him ascending the stairs. 

He’d just been coming to get his afterschool snack, since he’d been in a hurry to get upstairs to get his sunglasses before his dad could see him, he’d breezed right past the kitchen. 

“Ready for what?” Peter asked carefully as he stepped closer to his dad, who was stood at the counter. 

“You forgot?” Tony turned to look at his kid, blinking in surprise at his boy’s... fashion statement? “...what’s with the shades, Kid?” 

“Uhm,” Peter blanked, floundering at his dad’s tilted head and questioning look, “I... I’m, uh, bein’ a secret agent today, Daddy.” 

The man stared for a second longer, eyeing his son up and down before blowing out an amused breath, “are you now? Why-for are you being a secret agent?” 

“Uh, me’n’Ned were playin’ at recess. Didn’t want to stop- it's top secret, Daddy.” 

“Ah,” the man gave an amused grin, “I see.” Peter watched as his dad turned back to the counter, continuing to organize whatever he had been before, “don’t you remember, bud? Everyone’s coming over tonight.” 

“Everyone?” Peter’s jaw dropped in surprise, thankfully his daddy couldn’t see. 

“Everyone,” the man agreed, looking back at Peter to grin, “Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Nat, Steve, Bucky- the whole gang. Oh, except Happy. He’s got a thing, I think.” 

“Why?” Peter blinked, walking slowly to his snack cupboard to pull out a snack. 

“Why does Happy have a thing?” the man huffed a laugh when Peter made a face and shook his head, “Why everyone’s coming? Everyone wants to meet Harley and Pepper, ‘member?” 

_Oh_. “Oh.” So, Pepper and Harley were coming as well. Great. He faintly remembers his dad telling him that everyone wanted to meet them. He didn’t see why they could possibly want to meet Harley. Plus, Bucky had already met Harley- but he hadn’t met Pepper. 

“Hm,” the man hummed, “not excited?” he teased. “You were excited to have everyone over when I told you last week.” 

Last week Peter hadn’t had a black eye he was trying to hide. And he remembered that they were coming- knew about it. This was a complete surprise. Shocking. 

It just made everything ten times harder too. 

“No, ‘m happy,” Peter gave a smile, “just... just forgot.” 

“I know, that’s fine, Bambi. ‘m just teasin’,” the man gave his boy a grin. “Now, everyone will be here in an hour. Did you want to put on a nice shirt and some jeans? You haven’t seen auntie Nat in a while.” 

“Okay,” Peter nodded. Aunt Natasha liked it when he looked nice. She always called him cute Russian nicknames. She was his favorite- well, after his daddy of course. She was always sneaking him candy and snacks. “I can wear the blue one,” Peter decided. 

“The blue shirt with the long sleeves?” his dad asked, to which Peter nodded, “sure, wear your dark jeans with that though, okay?” 

“Okay, Daddy,” Peter gave another nod. 

Peter looked back at the snacks, suddenly not feeling as hungry. He still chose a bag of crackers. “’m takin’ these upstairs, okay, Daddy?” 

“Sure,” the man agreed, “bring the empty package down, alright?” 

“Mhm,” Peter hummed as he turned on his heels and disappeared upstairs. He had an hour to hide away before he’d no doubt be dragged from his bedroom to socialize with everyone. Everyone including Harley. 

\---- 

Peter managed to hide out for just over an hour. He’d eaten his snack when he returned up to his room. He slipped the sunglasses off as he changed his clothes to the ones he said he was going to change into, then decided to do some reading while he waited. 

He sat on his bed; the sunglasses folded neatly on his bedside table beside his alarm clock. He’d tried to read with the sunglasses on, but it was a lot blurrier than it usually was with them on. The black of the words blended easier with the now grey tint to the paper the glasses gave. 

They were at arm's reach for when he needed them though. 

When there was a knock on his bedroom door, Peter practically threw the book in his hands in surprise as he scrambled for the sunglasses. 

He just managed to slip them on his face when the door was pushed open, but instead of seeing his dad’s face, he grinned at his aunt Natasha. 

“Aunt ‘tasha!” Peter cried, flinging himself from the bed (and jumping over the open book now laying on the floor) to wrap his arms around her. She didn’t live very close to them, so he didn’t see her very often. It was a two-hour drive to get to her house. 

“малыш (little one (I think)),” the woman greeted, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “how are you, Peter?” 

“I’m good!” the boy chirped, snuggling into Natasha’s neck. “’m happy you’re here,” he continued with a grin. 

“Me too, мой мальчик (my boy).” Natasha grinned, hugging the boy a little tighter. The woman pulled back, smiling fondly at the small boy and running her fingers up his cheek before nudging the edge of the glasses a bit, “you look a lot like your daddy in those, but why are you wearing them?” 

“I’m a secret agent,” Peter explained, hoping his smile could cover the lie. She always knew. She knew when he was fibbing, or not telling the whole truth. 

“I see,” she smiled carefully. “Everyone’s downstairs. Don’t you wanna go see your friend Harley?” 

“Uhm, yeah,” Peter forced a smile, to which his aunt raised an eyebrow. “Let’s go!” Peter cheered, grabbing her hand and tugging her along. Natasha stumbled after the boy, confused for a second. 

Downstairs, Peter almost froze at the sight of everyone in the living room. Conversations were light, everyone adding tidbits at appropriate times. Peter’s eyes trailed over everyone, from his uncle Rhodey to Harley sitting on the floor in front of his mom. 

Everyone’s attention landed on Peter and his aunt when they stepped into the room. Some chuckled, and others smiled- but his dad blinked in confusion at Peter. 

“Nice shades, Kiddo,” Rhodey grinned at Peter, “he looks just like you when he wears those,” Rhodey continued, lightly shoving Tony’s shoulder with his own, as he flashed a bright, teasing smile at his best friend. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony laughed to his friend before his eyes drifted back to his son, and his eyebrow raised in confusion, “you’re still playing secret agent?” 

“Yep,” Peter breathed, eyes flicking towards Harley to see if the boy was making fun of him, but the older boy’s eyes were locked on the floor now. Peter pretended not to notice the strange look on his dad’s face, or the curious one on Pepper’s. 

“That’s so cute,” Pepper smiled, then leaned forwards to ruffle Harley’s hair, “it’s been ages since this guy played any games like that. They grow up so fast.” Harley swatted playfully at his mom’s hand, ducking his head to hide his flushing cheeks. 

“Mooom,” he groaned, giving the room a hesitant smile. 

Peter looked around the room again, noting that there was nowhere else to sit. He’d have to either sit on the floor like Harley, or in someone’s lap, and either way, someone could look over his glasses at his eyes. Aunt Natasha was still standing beside Peter in the doorway, looking down at him like she wanted to say something, but Peter beat her too it. 

“Uhm, Harley,” the older boy’s eyes flickered to Peter’s and there was something there that Peter had never seen before, “lets... lets go play in my room!” the boy chirped. As much as he didn’t want to bring Harley into his bedroom, he also didn’t want to stay with the adults. And if he went up to his room by himself, his dad would know something was up and follow him and then Peter might accidently tell him and- well, it would be a mess from there. 

“Alright,” Harley agreed, almost instantly. He stood quickly, smiling down at his mom before following Peter up the stairs. 

Peter let Harley into his bedroom first, then carefully closed the door behind himself. 

“I heard you met Flash today in the bathroom,” the older mumbled, eyes locked on the book still strewn on the floor. 

“Mhm,” Peter blinked. “I also met the bathroom sink.” Harley winced. Peter blinked again, stepping into the room. 

“He mentioned that.” Harley huffed. “Told us all, actually.” 

“I know,” Peter sighed, his fingers played with a loose thread on his shirt, avoiding looking at Harley. He knew they’d all laughed at him. Didn’t even have to be there to know. It was just how the older kids worked. 

“So, uh, did you... tell your dad?” Harley sounded... he sounded afraid. 

“No?” Peter turned in surprise. “Why do you think I’m wearing these?” With that, Peter tore the glasses off his face so the older boy could see the damage. Harley’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth flattened into a line. 

“Oh,” Harley eyed the boy’s darkened eye. “Can you see out of it?” 

“Yes,” Peter snapped. 

Although Harley had nothing to do with Peter’s black eye, the younger boy was still mad at him. It was Harley’s friend who did it. Because of Harley and his friends Peter was not only lying to his father now, but all his uncles and his aunt too. 

He slid the sunglasses back on his face and sighed. His finger tapped on the lens as he moved to pick up the book he’d tossed. “I don’t know what you’re gonna do, but I’m reading,” the small boy explained, “you can play with the Legos or cars or something. I don’t know. I just didn’t want to sit with everyone and I’d be in trouble if I didn’t invite you.” 

Harley’s soft eyes turned a little harder as he scoffed. “Not like I wanted to play with you anyways. I just wanted to get away with all the adults too.” 

“Humf,” the noise came from the back of Peter’s throat. He moved up to his bed, settling against the pillows and starting to read again. 

Peter read for a while, and Harley sat on the floor looking out of place. Peter would almost feel sorry had the boy not been friends with the one who shoved him to the floor in the restroom. There was a silence in the room, not uncomfortable, nor comfortable. It was just neutral. 

The silence carried on until Harley finally stood up, eyes hard and face pinched in a scowl, “this is boring, I’m better off with my mom.” 

Peter didn’t say anything as Harley slipped out of the room. He knew though, that with the older boy gone, he was a target for the adults downstairs now. They’d be concerned that he’s alone, or that Harley left. 

He got away with about ten more minutes of reading (or trying to, since it was risky to take the sunglasses off with so many family members who would just walk into the room) when another quiet knock rattled his bedroom door. 

It was Bucky this time, with Steve standing just a little bit behind him. Peter grinned at the two, happy to see them. 

“I told you he’d be reading,” Steve shook his head fondly. 

“Doesn’t mean he’s not bored,” Bucky huffed, stepping into the room. “Hey, Squirt.” 

“Hi, Bucky,” Peter leaned a little to see the body behind Bucky, “hi, Steve.” 

“Hey, Pete,” the blonde hair man grinned. “We saw Harley come downstairs, he’s playing some cards with his mom, Nat, Rhodes and your dad.” 

“Oh,” Peter blinked. They were playing a card game. And he wasn’t invited. 

“It’s boring, really,” Bucky scowled, “I told Steve, y’know, that the three of us, we should play our own game. Maybe some secret agent on the trampoline while it’s still light outside?” 

“Secret crack-the-egg?” Peter asked hopefully, scrambling to his knees and excitedly bouncing on the mattress. It was his favorite trampoline game. And with Bucky and Steve? He was always bounced super high. 

“Ooh, that sounds even better!” Steve grinned, “this is why we let Peter make all the good decisions, Buck.” 

“Secret crack-the-egg does sound fun,” Bucky pretended to ponder it. Peter laughed at the two, grinning widely. “Let’s do it!” 

Peter cheered, setting his book down on the blankets as he slid off the bed and joined the men at his bedroom door. Peter laughed as he followed the men down the stairs. 

Peter pulled his jacket on at the front door, then grabbed his shoes, trailing through the kitchen behind the men. It was going to be a lot of fun. 

\---- 

Tony wasn’t really sure what was going on with Peter. Something was though. 

And it didn’t even have anything to do with the sunglasses he was wearing... inside. At night. Although that in itself was weird. 

Peter was just... well, he was different. A bit less carefree? Not that the boy had ever been terribly carefree. Different. 

He knew it had something to do with Pepper, and Harley. Of course it did. Nothing else had really changed in his son’s life. Not anything else big like his dad having a new girlfriend at least. Plus, there was the added factor of Harley. Another child. Someone else who needed time and attention. 

It was different for his boy, and he knew that. The parenting books he’d binged read before introducing everyone had all said that. All his friends had said that- but there was something more. Maybe they couldn’t see it, but he could. He knew his son. He knew Peter better than he knew himself a lot of the time. 

He’d known the boy since he was born- hell, before the boy was born. And something just... it wasn’t right. And he knew that. As Peter’s father, Tony knew it. 

And it wasn’t... like the books said. Tony read each book cover to cover, scoured every blog and article he could find online, and nothing brushed on... well, on how Peter was reacting? Even when he and Pepper talked (on those rare evening when they’d get the chance to go out for a meal alone) Pepper always said she barely saw any changes in Harley. 

But Tony was seeing so many in Peter. The boy was getting quieter. More independent. He was leaving to his room a lot more, needing more time to himself than he usually would. And he was just... talking less? In the sense that the boy used to chatter aimlessly about his day- but now Tony could barely get him to explain his homework. 

But Peter swore up and down that he was fine with Pepper, and that he liked Harley enough. Promised he was fine. But Tony just couldn’t believe him. Not totally anyways. 

Of course, there was the different kid, different reaction thing. How everyone’s different- and he knew that. He took it into account- but it was still strange. That Peter was so drastically different, and Harley barely changed at all. 

The man shook his head to clear his thoughts, staring down at his hand filled with cards from Peter’s deck of Uno. The boy didn’t like the game too much, so Tony didn’t feel too bad about bringing Peter’s cards out for the rest of the group to play. 

Harley had returned from Peter’s bedroom, smile bright and promising that he’d just gotten bored of playing Legos with Peter. And the man felt bad for that too. His son was very set in his ways, and he liked to play things when he wanted. Nothing could be done about that. If Peter was playing Legos, he’d play Legos until he was finished. 

So, he brought the cards out. Pulled them from a junk drawer in the kitchen and shuffled with a grin- challenging the group (Harley, Natasha, Rhodey, Pepper and himself) to a game of Uno. Rhodey had a familiar glint in his eye from the last time he and Tony had played, where they were practically at each other’s throats (Peter had sat boredly in his seat, just dragging his finger along the table as his eyes flicked between his uncle and his father). 

It had gotten intense, and the man knew that things would get serious again- especially with Natasha playing. And Pepper too could get pretty competitive. 

They played for a while, everyone laying a card down. Some people got skipped, others got pick up twos (or fours). They were in the middle of a heated round of almost instant card laying when Tony glanced to the side to see Peter getting his shoes and coat from the front hallway. Behind him stood Bucky and Steve. 

He didn’t read into it too much. He trusted them- plus they’d just gone out the back door. It was just starting to get dark, and he knew that the guys wouldn’t keep Peter out very long. He didn’t like the trampoline enough to stay too long anyways, no matter who was on with him. 

The man grinned as he laid another card down- a pick up four for Rhodey, who elbowed him in the side, which had the rest of the table laughing. 

They played for a bit longer until he heard it- 

A shout, then crying. 

The man stood quickly, stumbling to his feet and throwing his hand of cards down. People stood after him, following his hurried pace as the man sprinted into the backyard, feet bare, to see what happened. 

It was Peter’s crying... and Bucky’s shout. 

The man pushed passed the men crowding his son. Peter, who was sitting on the edge of the trampoline, cradling a pair of broken sunglasses. 

But that didn’t matter. At all. 

As the man’s eyes landed on a dark bruise on his son’s face. On his son's eye. Clear as day even with the sun setting over the backyard. That was a bruise on his son’s eye. Peter had a black eye. 

“What the hell happened to him?” Tony snarled to the two, stepping over to sweep Peter off the edge of the trampoline and cradle him in his arms. The pieces of sunglasses dropped from the boy’s hands as he curled in close to his father, breathing stuttered ‘I’m sorry’s’ over and over as he sobbed. 

Whether in pain, or simply sorry about the glasses, Tony didn’t know. 

“It wasn’t... we were... the glasses- his face-” Bucky gaped, floundering. Clearly as shocked as Tony felt. The crowd of friends and family watched silently behind the man, worry quieting the group. 

“We were playing crack the egg,” Steve explained, wide eyed, “and the glasses bounced off. I stepped on them and then.... his eye, it was bruised. We didn’t... Christ, Peter, what happened?” 

Peter only sobbed harder, grabbing handfuls of his dad’s shirt and digging his face in the man’s neck. 

Tony was at a loss. Torn between comforting his boy and checking the injury. What the hell? He moved quickly, turning on his heels and brushing through the group of worried friends. 

He needed to see how bad it was. And with the sun setting and the light fading fast, he couldn’t get a good look. 

Tony moved through the house, leaving everyone to fend for themselves as he locked himself and his son in the bathroom. He set Peter on the counter, cupping the boy’s chin between his fingers and finally getting a good look at Peter’s face. 

“You’re okay,” the man whispered, first wiping some of the boy’s tears away while he worked to calm the both of them down. “It’s okay, you’re okay...” 

The bruise was dark and... definitely not brand new. It was old. At least a few hours old. He’d seen his fair share of shiners having been middle school age in high school, they really didn’t take kindly to him, and this one was basically at full swell at this point. The man bit his lip in shame at having not noticed as he continued to shush and calm the boy. 

It looked like someone had punched his kid in the eye. And that thought had the man seething. The thought of anyone putting their hands on his kid had him chewing the inside of his cheek to keep from expressing any anger (which he knew Peter would take as to mean he was mad at him). 

The colour ran from Peter’s eye lid to just above his eye socket. His entire bottom eyelid was puffy and bruised, and it had to hurt. 

He’d been hiding it intentionally, the man thought bitterly. 

“Peter, honey, what happened to your face,” Tony managed to school his features. He only spoke when the boy finally drew in an unsteady breath, trying to get his breathing under control. 

Tony was a little worried all the crying would throw Peter into an asthma attack. Which was definitely not what either of them needed right now. He carefully drew his thumb along the swell of his son’s bottom eyelid, wincing in psychological pain at seeing his son injured. 

“Please, Baby, tell daddy what happened to your eye,” Peter sniffled a couple times, keeping his eyes down. Tony pushed his son’s chin up, and his heart broke as the boy’s bottom lip wobbled. 

“I-I-I f-fe-fell,” Peter whimpered out, “in, in the bathroom at school.” 

Tony watched for a second. Then for two, eyeing his son. Peter had reached up to start brushing his own tears away, and was curling in on himself where he sat on the counter. 

“You fell?” Tony whispered, “how, honey? How’d you fall? What did you hurt your eye on?” He was having a hard time believing it. How could he not? Kids don’t just... they don’t just fall and end up with a black eye? 

“My laces were untied,” Peter cried, “I-I didn’t mean to, Daddy.” 

And he was crying again. 

“No... shh, honey, it’s alright. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Tony pulled his son into his arms again, “I know you didn’t mean to, it's alright,” the man hushed. He didn’t know why the boy was sorry for getting hurt. It was a mystery to him. 

Tony wasn’t sure how long they were in the bathroom, him sitting on the edge of the bathtub and Peter curled impossibly close to his chest. The man dragged a calming hand along his boy’s back and slowly, the child started to settle down to an occasional sniffle. 

There were so many questions Tony wanted to ask. He wanted to delve into the seven-year-old's mind and figure out why he’d been hiding this injury- and why he hadn’t told him. He wanted to call the school and lodge a very angry complaint about how no one had informed him that his son had a black eye. 

Had Peter gone to the nurse? Told a teacher? Had he been given ibuprofen, or ice for the swelling (it didn’t appear that they had because the swelling was in full swing)? Had anyone noticed his kid ducking his head to hide the bruise, or questioned him at all? 

Was Peter just that much in the shadows, that no one at school noticed the bruise? He didn’t have any sunglasses at school, so he couldn’t have been hiding behind them. 

“I need you to be honest with me, okay, honey?” 

Tony waited to feel the little nod against his shoulder before continuing, “did you tell anyone you hurt yourself? Does anyone know?” Peter stiffened in the man’s arms, “a teacher or the nurse? Did anyone help you?” Peter relaxed against the man again, which had Tony biting his bottom lip. That was peculiar. 

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Peter whispered, “Ned knows?” 

“Does he? And he didn’t tell anyone?” Ned was definitely a good influence on his kid. The older seven-year-old was a worrier, and always mentioned when something wasn’t right. He was Peter’s voice a lot of the time, and it was always a complaint from teachers that the duo should be separated into different classes (Tony and the Leeds family were very against it, since the two balanced each other out so amazingly). 

“We were on the bus,” Peter informed, curling closer to his dad and tucking his nose between Tony’s neck and collarbone. “Couldn’t tell, it was too late.” 

“I see,” the man sighed, lifting a hand to brush through Peter’s trampoline messed curls. “You have to tell people when you get hurt, okay, sweetheart?” Peter was quiet for a moment, no shakes or nods of his head. Tony frowned, hand stilling to cup the back of Peter’s head, “it makes daddy really sad when you’re hurt and don’t tell anyone.” 

“’m sorry, Daddy...” 

There was another small silence, Tony just running his fingers through Peter’s hair in thought, and the boy silent with his cheek smushed against Tony’s collarbone. “Does it hurt?” Tony couldn’t help but ask. He carefully pulled Peter back enough to see the swell in his son’s eye- the bruising that looked like it hurt. 

It looked awful, especially on his seven-year-old. 

“Kinda,” Peter mumbled after hesitating just a smidge, “m’ head ‘urts.” 

“Awh, sweetheart,” Tony cooed, “come on, we can get you some medicine to help with your headache and put an ice pack on your eye to help with the bruising, alright?” 

“Alright,” Peter gave a small nod. 

He set Peter on the floor, standing himself and then taking the boy’s hand into his own. 

He had no doubt that everyone would be worried. Peter had been crying, and Tony himself losing his shit—but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary. 

As expected, everyone was sat waiting in the kitchen, some sitting at the kitchen island, some at the connecting dining room table, and others leaning against the counter. The hushed conversation died down when they rounded the corner, and Peter’s head ducked and his little cheeks lit up in embarrassment. 

In his absence, someone had cleaned up the Uno deck, and the closed box was sitting in the center of the table. 

“Okay now, Buddy?” Bucky asked quietly, gesturing the boy over to him. Peter let go of his father’s hand to move towards Bucky, who quickly pulled him into his lap, hugging the boy. Tony knew that whatever happened out at the trampoline must’ve spooked his two friends- just by how gentle Bucky was being at the moment. Peter leaned back against Bucky, smiling lightly as Steve’s hand ruffled through Peter’s hair. 

Tony went to work grabbing the boy some medication for the headache, as well as searching through the freezer for one of the icepacks he always keeps on hand. He’d learned that with having a small boy growing up in the house, injuries were virtually unavoidable. 

Tony listened to his friends question his kid, most questions he’d already asked and gotten answers for in the bathroom with Peter. 

Until Natasha got around to asking her question. 

“I don’t believe it, малыш,” she shook her head thoughtfully, “you fell and hurt yourself on the sink? You’re clumsy, Pete, but you’re not that clumsy...” 

Tony turned away from the freezer to look at his son, also curious about the answer. It was true, never had Peter ever tripped and fell in the bathroom. He stumbled a bit, but he was good at catching himself. 

“Um,” Peter’s eyes darted around the room, at all the adults staring, waiting for an answer. The boy’s eyes landed on Harley for half a second longer than he’d glanced at the others, before he looked down at his lap, fingers brushing along Bucky’s hands, which were crossed together around Peter’s waist, “untied shoes...” 

Peter was deflecting. Definitely. Tony sighed inaudibly as he continued to dig around in the freezer. There was something else going on, but Tony couldn’t _help_ if the boy didn’t _say anything_. Peter’s answer didn’t seem to please anyone- Natasha especially as she eyed Tony with narrowed eyes. 

“Here, Bambi,” Tony said softly, walking towards Peter and crouching beside him. First, he handed the boy two chewable Advil tablets and a juice box to wash them down with since Peter didn’t like the taste. 

Peter took them without fight, which was a bit worrying, but then Tony looked around at all the eyes on his son and understood. Peter sipped from the juice box, then set it on the kitchen island as his dad passed over the icepack, wrapped in a tea towel. 

“Don’t press to hard, okay?” 

“Okay,” Peter gave a little nod, carefully touching the edge of the icepack to his bruised eye. He leaned back into Bucky, and the man leaned forward to rest his chin on top of Peter’s head, looking down at the boy over his nose. 

No one said anything for a second. No one knew _what_ to say. Everyone looked like the wanted to say something, but no one wanted to upset Peter. He looked pitiful as he pressed the icepack to his eye with one hand and sipped at the juice box he held with his other. The boy was curled so small in Bucky’s lap, that it made Tony’s heart hurt. 

“Can we play Go Fish?” Peter asked quietly, the only one brave enough to break the uncomfortable silence apparently. 

“That’s a good idea,” Pepper grinned, slyly glancing at Tony in curiosity, “what do you think Harls?” 

“Sounds good,” the boy said slowly after clearing his throat. His eyes shifted to everyone in the room, dragging straight across Peter. 

“I’m in,” Steve said with a smile. “Got some cards, Tones?” 

“Yeah,” the man called monotonously, turning from where he was leaning against the counter observing his son and digging through the junk drawer where Uno had been hidden away, then pulling a deck of regular playing cards. 

He handed them to Rhodey, who was beside him. The man in question smiled into the room, despite the concerned look in his eye, “I’ll shuffle then?” 

“Daddy?” Peter asked, and the man’s eyes fell to his son. Peter was watching him, with his head tilted in question, “are you playin’ too?” 

“Oh, no, not right now,” Tony shook his head, forcing a smile for his kid’s sake, “I’m going to tidy up the living room. You have fun though, okay, Bambi?” 

“I’ll help,” Natasha chimed. 

“Me too,” Bucky nodded, transferring Peter from his lap and into Steve’s. 

“Okay,” Peter bit his lip, lowering the icepack for a second to wrinkle his nose and furrow his eyebrows in thought at his dad. 

“Keep that on, alright?” Steve whispered to Peter, who raised it once more to his eye. 

Tony left to the living room with Natasha and Bucky on his heels as he listened to the game of Go Fish being organized and moved to the dining room. Tony was thankful for Steve, Pepper and Rhodey keeping the kids busy while he could slip away and calm down. 

“He couldn't have fallen,” Natasha said softly when the three of them made it to the living room and out of ear shot. “There’s no way Peter could’ve tripped in the bathroom and landed on the sink. Untied shoes, or not.” 

“I know,” Tony sighed, running a hand down his face. He’d already come to that realization. There had to have been something more to the situation. Something more his son was neglecting to tell him. 

“Do you think someone’s, you know,” Bucky gestured his hands, frown present, “picking on him?” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Tony scoffed bitterly to himself. The man leaned back on the couch, palms covering his eyes, “you guys know Pete’s a bit of a different kid. He’s just not like other kids- I mean, even him and Harley are so drastically different, age gap aside.” 

“Why didn’t the school-” 

“They didn’t know either,” the man huffed with a humorless laugh, “I send my kid there to learn and be taken care of and they don’t even notice he’s a got a _black eye_. He had nothing to hide behind there either. They just didn’t notice.” 

Tony was a bit miffed by that. That Peter could finish off his day without any of his teachers questioning him. Even if they hadn’t seen his eye, they weren’t bothered that the boy was ducking his head? Didn’t even question it? 

“Why do you think he hid it?” Natasha asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the recliner chair in the room. “A lot of kids don’t hide things like that. He hid it not only from school, but from you and all of us as well.” 

“I have no clue,” Tony lulled his head in her direction, “I don’t... Jesus, I don’t know. He won’t tell me, I’ve tried to talk, y’know? Ask about his day, and what he did. Question why he’s been isolating himself more, why he hides away in his bedroom more than he usually would- but he- he won’t respond. He brushes it off and I- ...I don’t know.” 

“He’s a kid,” Bucky piped in, looking down at his own hands, “I mean, Steve used to get beat on all the time- he was an easy target.” Tony nodded, they all knew this. Bucky and Steve had been childhood friends and Bucky would often share stories of Steve taking on bullies bigger than himself, “he hid it too. Tried to look tough. Didn’t want anyone else involved in his fight, or anyone worried about him.” 

“Maybe,” Tony breathed out, “he’s just... he’s not that kind of kid, y’know?” 

These people knew Peter. Not as well as Tony did, but they knew the boy, and have since he was in diapers. 

“I just don’t know what to do for him... If he doesn’t tell me what’s going on, there’s nothing I can do to help. I mean, even if he is getting picked on- I don’t have names. I don’t know how bad it is. I can’t just call up the school and have them keep a closer eye on him. There are so many students to be watching already.” 

“He’ll come to you if he needs you,” Bucky promised. “You’re a good dad, he knows you’ll be there.” 

“I hope so,” the man sighed, craning his head to see his son giggling in the dining room, still perched on Steve’s lap as they shared a hand of playing cards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. So, idek if this is realistic or not- I don't have experience anywhere with this stuff, so, y'know... I'd also just like to remind that this is all fiction. No Peters were hurt in the making of this chapter. 
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated. Anything you wanna say! Everything welcome, from constructive criticism, to prompts you wanna see in the fic. Kudos, subscribes and bookmarks are also awesome to see! This book is doing so well, and I'm glad people are liking it! 
> 
> I'm already working away on the next chapter, so, I'll see you readers there! Thanks for taking the time to read! C:


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again! 
> 
> I've decided that Harley plays soccer in this fic, nothing serious, just like community soccer- barely an official team lol. I just feel like most of the population has dabbled in soccer at some point or another. My best friend was on a Timbits (its a Canadian kid's team) soccer team, and I played for like a month in 5th grade. We'll just go with it, even if Harley seems like a cars/ potato gun kind of kid. Also, no clue about the points system in soccer, so if it's wrong, apologies. Do correct me in the comments and I'll be sure to change it. C:

“Why do I have to comeeee,” Peter huffed, slumping down in his booster seat. This was not how Peter wanted to be spending his Saturday morning. Definitely not. 

He’d been woken up at eight AM and was in the car by nine, on the way the public soccer field, where in about half an hour, Harley would be playing a game. 

Peter was practically being forced to attend, and watch the stupid game. Saturdays were supposed to be the day Peter went to Ned’s house for the day, but his friend had cancelled on him- or, Ned’s mom had. 

Instead of spending the day together in Ned’s bedroom, building Legos and watching movies, Peter was stuck watching soccer, and Ned was unexpectedly spending the day with his dad. It sucked. 

“C’mon, Bud, Harley invited us to come watch his game.” Tony sent his son a sympathetic smile in the rear-view mirror. He’d totally planned to just drop Peter off at Ned’s like usual and head to the game himself, but then Ms. Leeds had called to cancel the evening before. 

And there was really nothing he could do at this point. Ned’s father showed up unexpectedly for visitation, and there was nothing Mrs. Leeds could do. Plus, everyone was busy with work and personal lives- and he wasn’t going to just pawn Peter off on one of his friends when he himself was perfectly capable of taking care of the boy. 

And if that pissed Peter off, well, so be it. 

He’d promised Harley he’d come see his soccer match. He’d promised Pepper he’d be there. And he wasn’t going to let Peter’s bad attitude get in the way of that. 

Peter curled his lip up in irritation at his dad, crossing his arms across his chest and directing his attention out the window. Peter didn’t even want to mention that Harley hadn’t invited ‘us’ to the game. He’d been looking at Peter’s dad, speaking to Peter’s dad and barley acknowledging Peter’s existence. 

It had been Pepper to tack Peter’s name onto the invite. 

“I don’t wanna,” the seven-year-old's feet kicked absently from where they were elevated from the booster seat. He didn’t kick hard though, because if he kicked the back of the seat in front of him accidentally, he’d be in big trouble. 

“Peter,” Tony’s voice took a stern edge, “I get that you’d rather be somewhere else, but life ain’t always fair, Kid. Ned’s dad has every right to take him out for the day. Even though it’s your day with him. Next weekend you can go over to his house like usual, alright?” 

“No,” the boy glared, sinking down into his seat with a scowl that had his dad shaking his head and sighing. 

“Peter, you’d better stop with this attitude of yours. You better be on your best behavior here. We were invited to watch Harley’s game,” Tony’s hard eyes watched his son from the rear-view mirror, “and I suggest you stop with that pout right now, unless you wanna lose a privilege at home?” 

Peter’s scowl only deepened with the threat. That meant he’d either get time out in his room for an hour or so, get his tv time taken away, get his after-dinner treat taken away, or have to go to bed early with no story time or reading by himself. 

And he really didn’t want any of that to happen. 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed across his chest as he turned his attention sharply to stare out the window. 

The man rolled his eyes to himself. Sometimes his kid could be a brat. Even good kids had off days. 

Tony chose to let this go. He could see why Peter was mad. He was a kid of routine, and his routine today would be going to Ned’s house. That, of course, didn’t excuse his attitude. But it was a factor in the grand scheme of things. 

“Okay, how about this. If you’re a good, pleasant boy to Pepper and Harley, like the good boy I know you are, we can go after the game and get some ice cream.” Peter’s head turned slightly to Tony, chin down and narrowed eyes practically burning holes in the upholstery of the seat in front of him, “how’s it sound? Think you can do that for Daddy, honey?” 

Tony waited, finally turning the car into a pretty packed public soccer field parking lot. When he was fully parked, the man turned his body to look back at his silent son. Peter’s stare was still heavy on the seat, not saying a thing. 

Tony’s patience was starting to wear thin at this point. 

“Or, we can just forget that and you’ll sit right beside me the whole game, and then when we get home you can go to your room for the evening? Make a choice, Peter.” 

“Ice-cream,” the boy grumbled, not looking up from his stare. 

The man in the driver’s seat was content with the answer. 

“Good choice.” Tony nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Best behavior then, Peter. I’ll be very upset if you’re misbehaving, got it?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” the boy pouted. He too unbuckled his seatbelt, little nimble fingers working to unlatch the protective chest piece keeping him in his seat. 

Satisfied that Peter knew the rules, as well as the consequences to any episodes he may have, Tony got out of the car, then turned to pull he backseat door open as well. Peter slipped slowly from the car, head bowed, and eyes focused on the pavement below them. 

Tony moved to walk, expecting his kid to follow, but just before he could move, Peter’s little hand slipped into his own. Tony stared down for a second. Peter’s eyes were staring at the ground, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. 

Tony shook his head with a small smile, then squeezed Peter’s hand lightly. 

“Let’s go,” the man said softly, “Pepper’s saved us a spot.” 

They walked together to the big metal bleachers. Tony spotted Pepper in the crowd easily, he pulled Peter along, weaving through the groups of parents all waiting for the game to start. 

“Hey,” Pepper greeted when they finally made it to where she was sitting, in the middle of the bleacher. “I’m glad you guys could make it!” 

“Hey, Pep,” Tony grinned, “we’re not late, are we?” 

“No,” Pepper shook her head as Tony sat down beside her, pulling Peter down beside him and throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him into his side. “They’re just about to start.” 

“Perfect,” Tony gave a dazzling smile, “now which one’s Harls, they all kinda look the same from up here.” 

Tony felt Peter laugh where his face was pressed into his side, and even heard Pepper stifle a laugh beside him. 

“He’s player eight on the red side.” Pepper gave a small point towards red team’s number eight. And if Tony squinted his eyes, he could almost make out Harley’s face huddled around with other red jerseys. Almost. 

It wasn’t much time later that the game started. It was about as exciting as a soccer game between nine-through-eleven-year-olds could be. Points were won on both teams, and there was at least a bit of organization. Kind of. 

Red team was winning though. Props to them. 

Peter was beyond bored, and it almost made Tony feel bad about dragging him to the game. But it probably wouldn’t be the last one he attended. His kid just was not interest in sports- in playing or watching them. 

And truthfully, Tony was completely fine with that. Especially with how Peter’s asthma acted up. And he himself had never been into sports either. It was safer for Peter not to play anyways. Which was a win, if his kid wasn’t into it. Peter could play if he wanted too though, Tony wouldn’t stop him. 

Today though, the man just handed his cell phone over to the boy and Peter played one of the few games he had on the phone- one of which was a game Tony had developed just for Peter. He’d been working on his coding one evening, and well, Peter had come to mind. 

It was Peter favorite game, and usually was Tony’s most used app whenever Peter got his hands on the smart phone. 

Tony attention drifted back to the field, just as one of the kids in a red jersey scored a goal, which was followed by a high-five from their number eight player. His eyes lifted to Pepper, who was watching the game halfheartedly. 

Pepper didn’t seem too interested in the game itself. More so in Harley, who’s little face was bright red with exertion. He looked in his element down on the field, surrounded by kids whom he seemed to be fond of. She wasn’t like some of the other parents, completely enthralled by the game and barking orders at their children on the field. 

She was just casually cheering, and giving support from her spot. She was such an amazing mother, Tony couldn’t help but decide. 

“I’m sorry if this is boring,” Pepper’s soft voice broke his thoughts. 

“Oh, uh,” Tony’s attention fell to Peter, who was drifting to sleep at his side. The phone seconds from dropping from his hands. Tony pulled the phone from his slack hands before it could hit the metal of the bleachers, “it’s not.” 

“Seriously?” Pepper raised an eyebrow, eyes falling to Peter snuggled in Tony’s side as she gave him a small, fond smile. “Peter would beg to differ, if he could keep his eyes open, that is.” 

Tony let out a huff of laughter as he dragged the boy into his lap, and Peter instantly cuddled in, “he is seven. I, myself, find this quite intriguing.” 

“Is that so?” Pepper teased, “without looking, what’s the score?” 

“Uhm,” Tony tilted his head, biting his bottom lip and racking his brain for numbers, “ten-seven, red?” 

“Ooo, so close.” Pepper laughed. The man craned his head to catch a glance at the score board. Nine-seven. Seriously? One off? 

“Come on, I was one number off. I knew Harley’s team was winning at least...” Tony pouted as he tightened his hold on Peter. “That should count for something?” 

“It counts towards how bored you are,” Pepper teased. “I don’t blame you though. I love Harley and he can play if he wants too, but sports just aren’t for me. I don’t think I could ever be like one of those soccer moms...” 

Both their eyes drifted to where a cluster of middle-aged women were sat with boxes of granola bars and water bottles, all shouting at the players. 

“I don’t blame you,” Tony shook his head. “Soccer moms are scary.” 

“That they are,” Pepper laughed. “I really shouldn’t let them catch sight of you here. Most of them are single and on the search for hot single dads.” 

“I’m a _hot_ single dad?” Tony couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face, “single dad I knew, but hot? My, my, Ms. Potts. Is that what you really think? You think I’m hot?” 

“Oh, lay off,” the woman joked with a quiet laugh, “you know what I mean. And, of course I think you’re hot. Now, if you really want to see what I meant, pass Peter over here and go ask which kid scored the last goal and see how they all jump on the opportunity to boast about their kids. After that, you’ll see how many of them jump you and try to maul you into a relationship.” 

“I uhm,” Tony shook his head as a flush tinted his cheeks, “I think I’m fine here?” 

“Damn right,” Pepper snorted a laugh. “I got you first, sucks to be them. Finders keepers.” 

“That you did,” Tony huffed a quiet laugh as he returned his eyes to the field and buried his nose in Peter’s curls. “So, how long do these things usually last?” the man paused at seeing Pepper’s triumphant grin, “not that I’m not having fun, of course. Just curious.” 

“Maybe twenty more minutes? Harley’s team is pulling ahead so it shouldn’t be much longer. When the kids start losing interest and getting tired the coaches usually call it quits. Not very professional, but they’re kids so no one really cares.” 

“Perfect,” Tony glanced in Pepper’s direction momentarily before looking back at the game. He absentmindedly drew his fingers through his sleeping son’s hair, brushing the strands from his face. He was hoping the small nap would improve Peter’s mood. He’d been up early on a Saturday, then had the carpet pulled from under his feet about the plans for the day- so hopefully this would do some good. 

“His eye’s looking better,” Pepper spoke softly from Tony’s side. When he glanced at her again, he saw her watching his son, instead of the game. Tony’s finger lightly tracked over where had been bruised only days before. It had been just about two weeks since the trampoline incident, and the bruise was thankfully cleared up now. 

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “He still won’t say what happened,” Tony’s hand pushed Peter’s hair back, “I keep asking him. He gets all quiet, you know? Then tells me the same excuse. I know it wasn’t just him tripping over his shoe laces though. It couldn’t have been- I mean, you saw that bruise. There was some serious impact. More than just falling over...” 

“Poor kid,” Pepper leaned forwards, elbows resting on her knees and chin in her palms as she stared at Peter’s sleeping face. “He trusts you though. If he really does need you, he’ll tell you. You know that, right?” 

Tony was quiet for a moment, mulling that over, “I do... I think.” 

“Coming from a mom with a boy who’s a bit older than Peter, I’ve been there. I know all kids are different, but I know how much Peter loves and trusts you. It’s hard not to see, really. He’ll come to you if he needs you. I’m sure of it.” Pepper paused, then quietly she added, “kids like to be independent. Harley sure does, anyways. But when he’s out of his depth with anything, you’re going to be the first person he’ll come too.” 

“I hope so,” Tony hummed, “I’ll do anything for him. I hope he knows that.” 

“He does,” Pepper shrugged. Tony felt his heart quicken as she shifted a little closer so their arms were touching. It was the most kid friendly PDA possible, but it still struck him the same that kissing, or full on touching would. 

The man cleared his throat, willing the redness off his face before turned his head to look at Pepper. Her attention was back on the game, looking as though she hadn’t just initiated the bare minimum amount of physical contact at Harley’s soccer game. “So... I kind of promised Peter I’d take him for ice-cream after this... did you guys, uh, wanna come?” 

“Ice-cream, huh?” Pepper’s attention returned to Tony, “and why’d you promise this?” 

“It’s a long, time consuming, boring story,” Tony sighed, though he chuckled after. “Long story short though, Peter was in a bit of a bad mood on the drive over... Bribery’s a parent’s best friend, eh?” 

“Trust me, I’ve been there,” Pepper snorted, “I’m sure Harley would love to get some ice-cream after the match. And... I could really go for a scoop too.” 

“Good,” Tony grinned, “I’m buying, by the way~” 

Pepper opened her mouth to protest, but the man beat her to it, “I mean I invited you guys after all, it would be rude of me to make my guests pay for their own- Especially after a win like this. And I’m already buying for Peter and myself, what’s two more?” 

Pepper glared for a second, huffing softly, “fine. You’re a smooth talker, you know that?” 

“I’ve very aware,” Tony laughed. 

They both turned their attention back to the game, which was finally coming to a close. Red team had won, but only by a couple points. Excitement still rang heavily for the kids on the field wearing red jerseys. 

Tony rocked lightly on the bench, hoping to wake Peter up. He didn’t know if Harley would be upset that Peter had fallen asleep. When parents started to disperse, Tony leaned close to his boy, nuzzling Peter’s cheek, “you’ve gotta wake up now, honey. The game’s over. It’s ice-cream time now.” 

Peter stirred, curling close before half-stretching in the confines of Tony’s arms and blinking hazy eyes open at his father. 

“Good afternoon, Sunshine,” Tony teased with a smile, as a sleepy Peter started pulling away from him, “I didn’t know you found soccer so boring.” 

“Tired,” Peter mumbled, stretching fully. Pepper had disappeared to collect Harley and his soccer stuff, Leaving just Tony and Peter on the bench still. 

“I know you are, Bambi.” Tony sympathized as he brushed hair from Peter’s eyes, “I’m very proud of you, you know. You were such a good boy today even though you didn’t want to come. You’ve definitely earned your ice-cream.” 

“Ice-cream!” Peter grinned, the information finally sinking in now that he was a bit more coherent, “I want the vanilla ice-cream, with waffle and the rainbow sprinkles, ‘kay, Daddy?” 

“Sure, Bud,” Tony grinned. He stood up now that Peter had slid off his lap and stretched out his legs. He was stiff from sitting on the metal bench for so long with his boy curled in his lap, and it felt amazing to be moving. “You earned it. You know... maybe we can even get two scoops today.” 

“Two?” Peter’s eyes widened and almost all traces of his nap wiped away, “really, Daddy? I can have two scoops?” 

“I don’t see why not,” the man teased, holding his hand out to prompt the boy into slipping his own hand into his larger one- which Peter did, “now, let’s go meet Pepper and Harley. You tell him how good the game was, alright?” 

“Did he win?” Peter asked as they walked down the steps together. 

“He did. It was a good game, Harley played very well.” The man nodded, then he gave his boy a teasing smile as he reached his other hand to tickle Peter’s stomach, “and you’d have known if you didn’t fall asleep.” 

“Was tired,” Peter giggled, trying to push Tony’s hand away with the hand that wasn’t locked in his dad’s. Tony relented quickly since they were moving and he didn’t want his boy to trip. Peter stepped closer to Tony when they were on the safety of the ground. The boy smooshed the side of his face in the side of Tony’s jacket. 

The man let go of Peter’s hand to instead drop around Peter’s shoulder- inviting the boy closer to him. Peter had always been a clingy kid when he was tired. Especially with himself and his group of friends. 

The field of players and coaches and audience crowds cleared out fast. It was a lot easier finding Pepper this time around. She was stood with Harley and another boy. A boy about Harley’s age. The kid was the goalie, if Tony wasn’t mistaken. 

Tony led Peter over to them, a bit confused by the second child. 

“Pep?” The woman turned from the boys she was talking to, smiling in embarrassment. 

“Tony.” She greeted back quickly, cheeks heated in a flush. 

“Hi, Tony!” Harley grinned, breaking Tony’s attention off the boy’s mother, “You saw the game, right? Awesome, wasn’t it? This is our first big win, can you believe it?” 

“It so was,” Tony grinned back at the boy. “What a great game. You did awesome! As did you, goalie.” 

The two boys laughed. 

“About that,” Pepper lifted her hand to the back of her neck in an embarrassed act, “I completely forgot that I was supposed to be bringing Miles home with me today. His mother’s working a double shift, and his father’s not off until late tonight. Rain check on ice-cream?” 

“What?” Harley frowned, “why, mum?” 

Pepper had told the boy the plan before Miles had run over to them. And then Harley had so kindly informed his friend that they were going for ice-cream. 

Harley’s hurt eyes looked towards Tony, who felt bad. He was curious why she wanted a raincheck too though. 

Tony frowned at Pepper, she looked just as disappointed as Harley did, “why the rain check?” 

“Well, I just... I assumed-” now Pepper looked flustered. She blinked at the man before her, then down to Peter, watching silently tucked in his father’s side. “You invited Harley and I, I can’t it... would be rude-” 

“Nonsense, honey,” Tony grinned, “you think I’d be put off by your company? It takes more than a couple tough guys like them to scare me away. The more the merrier, right, Pete?” 

Both Harley and Miles were laughing at Tony’s antics. Each puffing their chests out to look tough like Tony had described them. Then the boys were laughing at each other. Tony smiled down at them, then looked towards Pepper, to see her giving them a small smile too. 

“Uhm, right, Daddy!” Peter called from Tony’s side. The man gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze as a sort of apology for their unexpected guest. Despite the small tug of guilt, there was no way Tony would call the invite off just because Pepper was watching Miles. 

“Goalie?” boy laughed at being called by his position, so Tony continued, “do you, young man, like ice-cream?” 

“Yep!” the boy responded, grinning at Harley, then smiling brightly at Pepper. “I love ice-cream!” 

“Are you sure?” Pepper looked over at the two boys before glancing at Tony with nothing but seriousness. He knew she felt bad about springing this on him- as well as forgetting about needing to watch over Miles. “Please don’t feel obligated, we can reschedule...” 

“I’m positive, Pep,” Tony nodded. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. What’s one more?” 

“Can we go with Tony and Peter for ice-cream, mom?” Harley pleaded, flashing his mom puppy eyes. “Pleassseee?” 

“Yes! Please, Ms. Potts! We’ll be good!” Miles continued, glancing at Harley before widening his own grin. 

“Okay, okay,” Pepper huffed, though she smiled, “we can go get ice cream. But only since you two played such a great game.” 

“Yay!” Miles cheered. 

“Thanks mom!” Harley grinned. 

“Mhm,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “You boys head to the car. Load your bags in the trunk, alright?” Pepper handed her keys to Harley, who scurried off with Miles to do as Pepper asked. 

“You’re really sure you don’t mind?” Pepper tilted her head when it was just the two of them- and Peter. She stepped closer to him, narrowing her eyes in question. 

“I really don’t mind,” Tony promised, “buying one more ice-cream isn’t going to bankrupt me, I promise.” 

“You’re not buying.” Pepper huffed with a laugh, “Not anymore. And not for a child you don’t even know.” 

“Oh yeah,” Tony raised an eyebrow in challenge, “try and stop me, Sweetheart.” 

“Oh, I can stop you.” Pepper leaned a little closer, eyes hard. 

“Yeah? You and what army?” Tony flashed a wolfish grin, leaning towards her as well. 

The thing to break their intense challenging staring contest was Peter’s little giggle from where he was still gripping a fistful of Tony’s jacket. The two jumped back quickly, both bright with embarrassment at forgetting that Peter was still with them. 

“Oh right,” the man gave a hearty laugh, leaning forward to pick Peter up. “I almost forgot you were here. What would you have done if we... oh, I don’t know? Kissed? Huh, Pete?” he teased. 

Peter’s face instantly squished into disgust, which had both adults laughing. 

“Right then,” Pepper managed to stop giggling first, then she leaned forward. But instead of kissing Tony like the man had teased, she wound up gently tapping Peter’s cheek. “He’s just kidding, Peter. Kissing is gross, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, then turned a disgusted look to his dad. “Gross, Daddy.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony snorted, pressing a kiss to Peter’s cheek then setting him on the ground. “Go find the car. I’ll be there in a second.” 

“Alright!” the boy grinned at the two before taking off towards where Tony had parked. On the complete opposite side of the parking lot from where Pepper was parked. 

“So, where are we going for ice-cream? Anywhere specific?” Pepper asked as they slowly started towards the parking lot. 

“You know, we’ve tested just about every ice-cream joint around here, and Peter’s decided that the one by my garage, that he’s been going to since he was old enough to walk, I might add, is his favorite.” The man paused in speaking to think for a second, “probably since Bucky sneaks him there all the time. But... I also might have to agree. Are you interested, by any chance?” 

Tony glanced at Pepper as the two made it to the pavement, stepping off the grass and into the hard asphalt. They were dead center between the two cars on opposite sides of the lot, facing each other with their backs to their respective cars. 

“Sounds perfect.” Pepper agreed. “If it’s got Peter’s stamp of approval, we’ll need to check it out. Should I follow you then?” 

“Sure,” Tony nodded, “If we get separated though, it’s the second right after the garage.” 

“Good,” Pepper nodded. “See you there then. Where I’ll pay for my kids.” 

The corners of Tony’s mouth lifted into a grin, “oh, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” 

\---- 

Peter couldn’t believe his dad had invited Pepper and Harley to come get ice-cream with them. So much for a treat. Now he was spending even more time with Harley. This day sucked. 

And, to top everything off. Harley was bringing a friend. And Peter knew nothing good could ever come from any of Harley’s friends. Harley’s friends were usually mean. 

Peter remained quiet as his dad drove. At least they were going to the good ice-cream shop. Because not everything could go wrong in one day, right? 

“I hope you don’t mind them coming along, do you, Squirt?” When Peter looked up from his hands in his lap, he made eye contact with his dad through the mirror. 

“I don’t mind, Daddy,” Peter tilted his head, though he was almost sure his frown said otherwise. He couldn’t help it though. 

“What’s with the long face then, Bambi?” 

“I...” Peter thought about telling his dad but... “I miss Ned.” 

“Awh,” Tony sighed, “I know sweetheart. You’ll see him on Monday though. And next weekend you can go to his house like normal, right?” 

“Right.” Peter nodded. 

The soccer field wasn’t too far from the garage, and the garage was right beside the ice-cream parlor, so it didn’t take too long for them to arrive. 

Pepper’s car pulled in right behind Tony, and they parked side by side. 

“Ready for ice-cream?” the man grinned from the front seat, which hyped Peter up a little. 

“Yeah!” 

Inside the man who owned the shop, grinned when the group entered the small, well-kept parlor. His eyes instantly dropped to the smallest person, eyes lighting up, “Peter!” 

“Scott!” Peter beamed back. Peter loved Scott- he was silly and fun to talk to. The man behind the counter had a daughter just a couple months older than Peter. And they were best friends. Sometimes they’d have play dates at Scott’s house, and sometimes he and his dad would have Cassie over for an afternoon. “Daddy said I can have two scoops today.” 

“Woah! No way,” the man behind the counter gasped theatrically, “a whole two scoops? Lucky boy. Now, that’s two scoops vanilla on a waffle cone, right?” 

“And...” Peter prompted with a grin. 

“And... rainbow sprinkles of course! Thought I forgot, didn’t’cha?” Peter laughed, pressing his hands against the protective glass casing the buckets of ice-cream. “Hey, hey, get your grimy little fingers off the glass, you hooligan. I just cleaned that.” 

It was then, the man seemed to realize that other people entered too, “oh, jeez, sorry ‘bout that everyone. I get excited when I see my favorite customer, y’know? Anyways what can I get for you all? I mean, I know your order, Stark. Rocky Road, right?” 

“Yep,” Tony nodded, popping the ‘p’ and moving to stand behind Peter, pulling him back and away from the glass. “I’ll be paying for the whole group. Go crazy, kiddos.” 

“No, he won’t,” Pepper frowned. 

“The lady says no,” Scott tilted his head towards Tony who had a firm look on his face, “ooh, but reign of Stark. Sorry, Ma’am. I’m loyal. The bill goes to Stark. Gotta keep those connections with the people who watch your kid, amirite?” 

“You planned this,” Pepper accused, turning to Tony, “didn’t you?” 

“I sure did,” the man grinned. “Did I forget to mention there was a reason this was Peter’s favorite parlor? A reason past spectacular ice-cream?” The man's eyes drifted back to Scott, who was giving the group a cheeky smile. Pepper's attention followed to the man behind the counter and she couldn't help but return the smile.

Pepper rolled her eyes fondly towards Tony, then turned to the boys at her side. “Two scoops only. And make sure to thank Tony before we go, alright?” 

“Alright!” Harley grinned, “c’mon, Miles.” 

“Who’re your friends, Petey?” Scott asked, tilting his head. The man eyed the two in the soccer uniforms. Obviously a couple years older than Peter. 

“That’s Harley,” Peter pointed to the older boy, “and that’s... um...” 

“I’m Miles Morales.” 

“Great to meetcha both, and nice uniforms by the way, big win by any chance?” 

“Yep.” Harley grinned triumphantly, “big win, right, Miles?” 

“Oh, yeah. Our first big one of the season!” 

“Wow,” Scott nodded, “celebratory ice-cream it is then.” 

The two boys in matching uniforms nodded enthusiastically. 

Scott got to work serving the kids cones. Doing the new customers first. Harley and Miles both ordered two different kinds of ice-cream. Peter waited patiently for his ice-cream cone to be handed to him, thanking his friend before standing unsure in the middle of the shop. 

Harley and Miles had both taken a seat at a table, and Peter wasn’t sure if he was invited. Did Miles make Harley mean like Flash did? Should he wait for his dad and Pepper to get their ice-cream and then sit with them...?

“Hey, Peter, right? Come sit with us!” Peter blinked at Miles before glancing at Harley. The older boy was grinning, and nodding his head. 

“Yeah, c’mon, Pete.” Peter moved slowly towards the table, in case it was a practical joke. Harley didn’t sound intimidating. Not in the least. He actually sounded... Happy? Friendly? 

Peter sat himself across from Miles, and beside Harley. He hoped the older boy didn’t mind, but Peter wasn’t so much a fan of strangers. Especially strangers who are friends with Harley. 

“So that’s your mom’s new boyfriend, huh?” Miles dove right into conversation. “He’s awesome. You’re super lucky, Peter. My dad’s all big and tough and he’s all about the rules. He's a police officer, and he's super embarrassing.” the boy sighed, digging his finger into the cool ice-cream on his cone before licking it off and then licking away the hole he'd made. 

“Tony’s great.” Harley agreed as he licked a strip up his ice-cream. Peter watched Harley's attention fall to his dad and Pepper, and glanced back himself to see them eating bowls of ice cream at a small table a couple tables away from them. 

“Yeah, my daddy’s cool,” Peter nodded, attention returning to his treat. He was really trying to make sense of the situation. He licked his ice-cream as he watched the two older boys silently. 

They chatted some more. About anything really. A lot of time was spent talking about the soccer game. They spoke of Peter’s dad’s garage lab, which Harley was yet to see. They talked about a couple movies they’d both seen. Things that didn’t interest Peter at all. So he licked away at his ice-cream. 

But Miles kept dragging him into the conversation- asking questions, and asking for his opinion on things. Which was not something Peter was used too, especially with Harley sitting beside him. “hey, you two go to the same school, right?” 

“Yeah, why?” Harley asked, tilting his head at his friend. 

“Just curious. What I wouldn’t give to go to Midtown- it's the perfect school, y’know. I’m stuck at stuffy private school.” Miles sighed, poking his lip out in a pout, “well, except for that kid you had at your birthday party last year. That mean one-” 

“Flash?” Peter shrunk away at the mention of the bully’s name, but neither ten-year-old seemed to noticed. 

“Yeah, him. I hated him. I don’t know why you even invited him, honestly. He was a huge jerk.” Peter almost gaped in surprise as Miles spoke so freely of his dislike for Flash. And to Harley too. 

“He’s not that bad,” Harley frowned, shaking his head. The older boy’s eyes drifted to Peter, who’s attention shot down to his ice-cream. 

“I don’t like him still. He was so mean. Do you still hang out with him?” 

“Sometimes, yeah,” Harley furrowed his eyebrows, “seriously though, he’s kinda cool most of the time. He’s a jerk sometimes, but not to his friends.” 

“Guess I wasn’t his friend then,” Miles shook his head, “anyways. What’s your favorite class, Peter? Does Midtown have anything exciting my school doesn’t?” 

Peter grinned as he started speaking of his science class, where they did a bunch of experiments. He actually liked this kid. Miles wasn’t like Flash at all. And, Miles hated Flash. 

And Harley was being nice too. Even when Peter’s dad and his mom were sat at a different table behind them with their ice-cream. 

Peter was surprised that Harley did have some nice friends. His soccer friends were actually super nice. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned- his best friend totally wouldn’t believe him. 

One thing Peter wanted to know was why older kids were so confusing. What was up with that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's already in the works. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! Also, don't mind me bringing in characters from all over the place. A lot of Avengers will have small rolls, whenever I see fit. Scott just seemed to be perfect one to own an ice-cream shop, plus he's just so darn cute with kiddos- especially Cassie.
> 
> As always, comments appreciated! They really motivate me to keep working on this fic, even when I want to throw in the towel. Anything you guys have to say is important, and I look forward to reading your thoughts, opinions and constructive criticism. And please remember to kudos, bookmark and subscribe as well! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all (hopefully) in the next chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than usual, and also not really planned... Twas a spur of the moment chapter but I felt like I needed to defend Harley just a little.   
> This is a bit of a look into Harley's side of things, plus a bit of an explanation for his actions (not that I condone his actions at all.) Just... I love Harley, guys, and I swear he's a good kid.
> 
> He'll smarten up! I promise!
> 
> **As a side note, I hope you all are well! And prepared for the Covid-19 virus. I hope all of you stay safe, and that this gets cleared up quickly and life continues as usual. Do stay safe, guys! Hopefully you all have enough toilet paper as well (sorry, I still think that's a bit funny. My folks are beside themselves with humanity rn.)**

“So,” Harley glanced up from his video game. His attention fell to his mother, who was watching him thoughtfully. He hadn’t even noticed her stood in his bedroom doorway, but now that he had, he couldn’t help but feel anxious. 

“So?” Harley repeated, sitting up from his lean against his pillows and setting his game console on the bed beside him. His mom took that as an invite into his room, and before Harley knew, she was sitting on the bed beside him. 

“What do you think of Tony?” 

“Of Tony?” Harley blinked. He didn’t think that this was where the conversation was going to be going. He’d almost thought he was in trouble for a second. That the school had called, or maybe that he’d failed a test or something- but he didn’t expect to be talking about Tony. 

“Yeah,” Pepper leaned back, ankles crossing over each other as she watched him. 

“I like him.” Harley decided. He did like Tony. “He’s real nice, and he knows a lot about cars and stuff.” 

“Hm,” Pepper nodded, “that he does.” 

Tony was a stark upgrade from Harley’s own father. He didn’t remember much of the man who’d been in his life for a measly five years, but he remembered his dislike for him. Tony was a pretty good dad. Peter was lucky to have him, but he wouldn’t replace his mom- no matter how much the man knew about cars. 

“I like him more than dad,” Harley admitted though. He didn’t know if that was offensive, or if that would hurt his mom’s feelings, but it was true. He did like the man more than his own biological father. It would be dumb not too. And Harley knew for a fact that Tony liked him more than his real father did, wherever the man had run off too. 

Harley watched in silence as his mom’s lips quirked up momentarily into a smile, “yeah... I do too.” 

Her voice was soft, and fond. Saved for tender moments like this, which had Harley questioning just where this was going. He nodded slowly. 

“What do you think about Tony and I having a relationship?” Harley’s attention snapped to his mother’s face, “I know we’ve been dating for a while now, but I want your honest opinion. You’re my number one, Harley and if you’re not on board, we need to take a step back.” 

Harley thought. Slowly, attention shifting around the room as he thought. That was a loaded question. There were so many things that factored in on this. His finger slipped to the console on the bed beside him and he turned it off with the push of a button. 

“I... I think he treats you right,” Harley mumbled, looking up at his mom to see if he was on the right track, “and he’s nice to me too. He, I’ve seen you guys, y’know, kiss and stuff-” Harley held his hands up quickly, as if he’d said something to offend her rather than the truth, “which is fine, I mean, it’s kinda gross, but it’s, it’s a good gross?” 

“Relax, Kid,” Pepper laughed, knocking her shoulder against Harley’s own. “Please do keep thinking that kissing’s gross. I’d very much like that.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley rolled his eyes. Kissing in general wasn’t gross. But his mom kissing her boyfriend was very much gross. His mom kissing anyone but him on the forehead or cheek was gross. 

“You’re right though,” Pepper shook her head, leaning to wrap her arm around Harley’s shoulders, “he does treat me very well. And he is very good with you too.” 

“Yeah,” Harley nodded. 

“And what about Peter?” 

“What about Peter?” Harley blinked. Was this where everything came crashing down? Had that been a build up to her mentioning that Peter told them all about Flash. And how he used to pick on him, and how he doesn’t stop Flash? 

“What do you think about him? I... I know he’s younger than you, but what’re your feeling about him?” 

“I...” Harley did not know how to answer this. He didn’t hate Peter... He never had. He didn’t really hate anyone. Peter wasn’t that bad. The younger boy was alright, quite honestly. Harley really had nothing against him- especially after spending some time with the boy. It was Flash who had some kind of grudge against Peter. 

“He’s okay,” Harley decided. “I... he’s younger. It’s, y’know, it’s kinda weird. I see him at school, and then I see him in the evenings, and sometimes he comes here, or I go to his house, but we don’t talk at school.” Harley tried to explain slowly. “Flash and the guys don’t... they don’t like hanging with younger kids, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Pepper nodded, “that’s fine. You’ve got your friends, and Peter’s got his, right?” 

Harley bit his bottom lip to keep from mentioning Peter only had one friend, but nodded anyways. He’d only seen Peter hanging out with that one kid. Ned, if Harley remembered correctly. 

“Why all the questions?” Harley asked quietly. He fiddled with a piece of thread off his comforter, eyes watching his mother. 

“No reason,” Pepper shrugged, “I just wanted to see where you stood on everything. This is a lot for you, and Peter to take in. I don’t want you to feel afraid of this, and I need to know that you’ll come to me with any concerns you have, or if you think things are moving too fast.” 

“Are things moving too fast for you?” Harley asked curiously, tilting his head towards his mother. 

“No,” Pepper thought for a second, “I don’t think they are. We just need to make sure everyone completely comfortable, since it’s not things changing for Tony and I, but you and Peter as well- a check in from time to time, you know?” 

“Okay,” Harley nodded, eyebrows furrowed, “I like them. Tony’s really cool, and nice, and Peter’s alright too. For a second grader, at least.” 

“That’s all I wanted to know, baby,” Pepper smiled. “I want you to come to me with any concerns you have, alright? We’re a team.” 

“Right, a team,” Harley nodded with a faint smile. They sat in a comfortable silence for a couple seconds, Pepper studying her son, and Harley lost in his thoughts. 

“Hey, mom?” the boy started slowly, then bit the inside of his cheek, “he’s... Tony’s not like... he’s not like Killian, is he? He’s nice when I’m around, but I’m... I’m not always around.” 

Pepper looked down at her son in confusion. Harley looked so concerned, and it almost made her sad. Harley was such a good kid- a momma’s boy through and through. 

“No, he’s nothing like Aldrich.” Pepper shook her head with a breathy laugh. “Tony is a perfect gentleman always- whether you and Peter are around, or it’s just me and him, I promise. I know you didn’t like Aldrich.” 

“He didn’t treat you right, mum,” Harley had never once hidden his dislike for Aldrich Killian. Right from the start, when they were tiptoeing around each other with whether they should date or not, Harley had not been on board. And he was thankful his mom was on his side. 

Nothing had happened with Killian, and then his mom got that better job at Stark Industries, where Tony payed her better, treated her better and her hours were a lot better. 

His mom had always spoken fondly of Tony Stark- and if Harley hadn’t known any better, he’d have said she had a _crush_ on him. But it was really hard to trust people his mom dated- after his dad, and Killian. 

“That’s good then,” Harley decided. “I... I like Tony,” Harley hesitated for a second, “but if he hurts you... I’ll... I’ll beat him up, kay?” 

Pepper laughed, which was a bit of a hit to Harley’s pride. But he let it go, since his mom was laughing. He could total take Tony on if it came to his mom. 

“I know you will. You’re the toughest guy I know.” Pepper leaned over to press a kiss to Harley’s forehead, and ruffle her fingers through his hair again. 

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” Harley deflated, as he lifted his hands to try and arrange his mussed-up hair. He scowled playfully at his mom’s beaming grin. 

“Sarcasm? Me? Never!” Pepper stood now, smiling fondly. 

“See,” Harley gestured to her, “that, right there, that’s what makes me think you’re being sarcastic.” 

She laughed, “dinner’s in twenty, got it? And no games after dinner tonight, your math teacher sent an email. You’ve got a homework package due tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” Harley sighed, flopping back against his pillows, “I know.” 

\---- 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Flash snorted a laugh, “you got a seventy-five on that quiz? That’s low, bro. I got a ninety-eight.” 

“It’s not my fault,” Jake rolled his eyes, “I couldn’t study at all, my little cousin was spending the week, and she scream, like the whole time she was conscious.” 

“Why?” Harley questioned absently, barely looking up from his sandwich. 

“What do you mean? She’s like two. Babies scream.” 

Harley raised an eyebrow, not bothering to mention that if babies are content, they don’t scream. He bit his sandwich instead, head falling into his fist for support. 

“That sucks man,” Flash laughed, eating a chip from the bag in front of him, “can’t blame it entirely on the kid though, you’re pretty stupid. Not like Harls an’ I, aye, Harley?” 

Harley glanced towards Jake, who looked to be a mix of frustrated and upset. 

“You can’t be mad,” Flash snickered, “I got a ninety-eight, and Harley, what did you get?” 

Harley ducked his head, not really wanting to say. Flash was always rubbing salt in people’s wounds. Jake was definitely the least clever in the group. It just took him a bit longer to grasp the concepts, than everyone else. Flash knew this, but still, he targeted people. 

“Ninety-eight,” Harley hummed quietly, dropping his attention from his friend, down to his sandwich again. 

“See,” Flash jerked a thumb in Harley’s direction, “and if Max was here, he’d probably have at least a ninety too.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jake scoffed, jamming a bite of carrot stick in his mouth. 

“Hey now, it’s alright that you’re stupid. We like you anyways, Man.” Jake rolled his eyes, and Harley could barely tell if Flash was kidding or not. “I know what will cheer you up,” Flash continued with a grin, “I stole this from my cousin. It was hidden under his bed.” 

Harley raised a curious eyebrow, watching as Flash grabbed a piece of folded paper from his backpack, and unfolded it (after checking to see if anyone was around). 

“Oh, no way,” Jake, scooted his chair closer to Flash’s to get a better look at whatever was on the paper. 

Harley curiously shifted to be able to see the paper, but almost instantly his cheeks filled with heat and his attention dropped to his lunch again. 

That was a naked lady. Why did Flash have a naked lady’s picture at school? 

“Where’d he get that?” Jake asked, eyes dancing across the glossy photo. “Where do _I_ get one?” 

“Magazine,” Flash grinned, “he’s seventeen, so he can buy ‘em. Cool, isn’t it?” 

Harley chewed on his bottom lip, refusing to raise his attention from his food. The picture made him uncomfortable. Especially since it was at school. He’d never seen anything like that before. And school was not the place for his first viewing. 

“If you get caught with that, I think you’ll get suspended.” 

“Awh, what’s the matter, Harls? Not into it? Are ya gay, or somethin’?” 

“No!” Harley gaped, attention shooting to Flash. “’m not gay, you asshole.” Flash’s grin was wide, and teasing. And even Jake, who’d been on the receiving end of Flash’s jokes what muffling a laugh behind his hand. 

“Woah, defensive,” Jake laughed. Harley rolled his eyes, taking an angry bite of his sandwich and chewing it slowly. 

“You really don’t wanna look at this babe, man?” Flash flashed the poster in Harley’s direction. Harley kept his attention trained on it, in fear of being called gay again. 

“I mean, she’s pretty, or, uh, hot, but... I’m... I’m eating here, Man. Don’t wanna get... y’know.” 

“All hot and bothered?” Flash’s eyebrows wiggled, and he laughed to himself. “I get ya.” 

Harley almost breathed out a sigh of relief as Flash folded the picture again, slipping it right back into the backpack pocket it had been in. 

Harley didn’t know why Jake and Flash found that appealing. Harley liked girls just fine. He’d had a girlfriend in the third grade- they'd used to hold hands and stuff, but that picture was... it was a bit too much. 

And it didn’t make sense that Jake and Harley forth found it attractive, when Harley didn’t. Jake was three months younger than Harley, and Flash five months older. Age had nothing to do with it, if the guy older than him, and the other younger than him found it good, but Harley, dead in the middle, thought it was kind of gross. 

“Let’s finish eating, then we can hide out in the corner outside and look at the picture, eh?” 

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, “hey, do you think you can get one of those for me, Flash?” 

“Maybe,” the leader shook his head. 

Harley wasn’t even sure he liked Flash. But it had been so hard to build-up his relationship with the older kid. And even if Flash was a terrible friend, there were perks to being in his circle. People left everyone associated with Flash alone. 

Harley wasn’t a popular kid. Had never been before, until he met Flash. And the safety that came with knowing the kid was nice. Even if at times, Flash’s personality made him want to just forget they even existed. 

But he couldn’t. If he left the group not, he’d have no one. A social reject. And he couldn’t be a loner. He really couldn’t. That would make him public target number one. He quite liked being on this side of Flash’s group. A friend(?) instead of a target. 

So, he’d stick with Flash, and let the older boy pick fun at him, and the other boys who were supposed to be his friends. Flash was mean to everyone; it was just his personality. His jokes were more hurtful than funny, but it was such a difference from his just being plain mean. Harley could tough it out, just to stay in Flash’s good graces. 

Harley didn’t even like picking on the other kids. It wasn’t fun. He didn’t know how the others, especially Flash, found it fun. 

And to fit in, and be one of the group, Harley had stooped to picking on the younger kids too. He’d been roped in all those years ago when he’d first been a part of the group. 

Harley hadn’t known Peter, or Ned. But he followed blindly, copying his friends and picking on the younger boys. And it made him a jerk. He knew, but he’d rather be a jerk to a couple kids, than have Flash’s anger and teasing turned on him. 

He tried to be nice. 

He never once laid his hands on anyone. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to look his mother in the face if he did. And things just got even worse when his mom started dating Tony, Peter’s dad. 

Harley couldn’t tell Flash this. He was unsure what would happen with that. Would Peter get it worse? Would Harley be chalked into a group with him? It was safer to keep that minor detail a secret. And thankfully, Peter was on board, without Harley even bringing it up. 

It was for both of their own goods. 

Harley didn’t even know why he defended Flash. He defended him to Miles all the time. After just about every soccer practice, or match. Miles always had something to say about Flash. And most of it was true. 

But still, Harley defended the guy. 

He still hangs around him. 

Follows him like a lost puppy, in fear of consequences that could ruin his social life if Flash ever caught wind of Miles’ dislike of him, or the fact that Harley actually hung out with Peter just as much as he hangs around Flash and the guys. 

There were reasons he let things slide, and why he stayed with the group, even when he knew they weren't the nicest. 

Boy would his mom kill him if she ever found out. 

So... maybe Harley had a couple of secrets...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, the peer-pressure, and school social cliques. Harley's trying guys. Being ten is rough, ngl.
> 
> So, Flash. Not much to say about him. I'm not gonna lie, I kind of like the _Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)_ Flash. That guy's kind of got some redeeming qualities... this Flash, not so much.
> 
> Anyways, as always, thoughts, opinions and constructive criticism welcome and appreciated! Comments, bookmarks, subscribers and kudos are all wonderful to see, and motivate me to keep writing. Thanks to everyone who does! You guys are amazing!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another chapter! 
> 
> I hope a little bit of Harley's character and quirks were cleared up last chapter. I know me saying he's not really a bad kid in the comments didn't mean anything until I backed it up, but hopefully it helped! Anyways, back to our regularly scheduled Peter content.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Peter stared long and hard at the notice in his hand. His teacher had given it to him. Told him to give it straight to his father, along with the multiplication quiz he hadn’t gotten a single question right on. 

Peter was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? He had to give his dad a notice that requested an immediate phone call, and the test he’d completely bombed. 

What had he done? He didn’t think he’d been bad, or that he hadn’t been playing attention. He really hoped he wasn’t in trouble for the test. Because he’d tried. He honestly didn’t know what happened... 

He had no idea how he’d bombed it. He’d gotten all the homework and classwork leading up to the quiz right. He hadn’t answered a single question wrong since he’d grasped the concept of multiplying. He had the multiplication table memorized, and yet... here he was. 

Cradling the two papers in his limp hands and staring up at the bus roof. Stared off into space. Impending doom. 

As always, he was the last left on the school bus, which he didn’t mind. He liked it, in fact. But today, the lack of peers and silence was eerie. He was left to his thoughts, which he didn’t really want to be. 

Because he’d completely flunked the test. There was no way he’d get any praise from his father- or that the quiz would be posted on the refrigerator for his uncles and aunt to see. 

If he were honest, a grounding was probably in his near future- like the time his dad had gotten a phone call home that Peter hadn’t been paying attention to the lesson (for the second time that week). 

When the bus stopped at the end of Peter’s driveway, the boy stood. Squeezing his lift fist and crumpling the papers a little bit. He pulled his backpack on, stepping out from his seat and walking slowly down the narrow aisle. 

“Thank you,” Peter bowed his head to the driver, like he always did. His dad had taught him to be respectful, and Peter noticed that none of the other kids ever thanked their driver. They mostly caused problems. 

The man gave him a fond smile, and then Peter was stepping off the bus. Pausing to listen to the vehicle close the doors, release the breaks and drive further up the road. He lulled his head to catch sight of the yellow bus disappearing around a corner. He drew out a breath, shook his head and walked up the driveway. 

He pulled the door open quietly, stepping into the house then turning around to pull it closed behind him. He took care in settling the papers on the bench by the door. He sat on the floor, slipping his rain boots off, then his rain jacket, and lastly, hanging his bag on the hook it belonged on. 

The boy stared at the small pile of papers and he pushed himself off the floor. He grabbed them, then moved towards the kitchen, where he could head his dad cutting something. 

“Hey, Bud,” his dad greeted without looking up from where he was cutting up pieces of strawberries. “Strawberries for your after-school snack today? They’re going to go bad soon.” 

“Mhm,” Peter hummed. He toed his socked feet against the floor before moving further into the kitchen and pulling himself up onto his kitchen island chair. Peter neatly placed the papers in a perfect pile, with the teacher’s note on the top. 

He placed his hand on top of them, hoping his dad wouldn’t notice. 

Peter almost winced as his dad turned with a small bowl of washed and sliced strawberries and his eyes almost immediately zeroed in on the papers. 

“What’cha got there, Bambi?” 

Peter dropped his attention to his lap, fingers tapping the papers anxiously, “they’re for you.” 

The man’s eyebrow rose in confusion as he stepped closer to set the bowl down in front of boy and pull the papers out from under Peter’s hand. 

The man leaned against the island, across from Peter who was fiddling with a piece of strawberry instead of eating it. Tony glanced over the first sheet of paper, eyes blinking in surprise before he swapped the pages so he could look at the test. 

Peter watched as his father’s eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the test. The boy popped the strawberry in his mouth, hoping his dad wouldn’t make him explain with his mouth full. 

“Peter...” Tony’s voice was soft, eyes glancing up from the papers and studying his son thoughtfully. It really didn’t make sense. 

Peter’s bottom lip poked out in a pout, and he willed himself not to cry, “’m sorry, Daddy... I really tried.” 

“It’s alright, honey,” Tony soothed, “I know you did. It’s alright.” 

Peter looked up in surprise. His dad didn’t sound mad. He sounded... sad? Had Peter disappointed him? 

“This quiz... what was different this time than all the other quizzes and tests you take?” 

Peter shook his head, thinking back to what had been different. His finger poked at a strawberry in his bowl, frowning in thought, “uhm, we copied the questions off the board this time. Mostly we get handouts that we fill in, but this time we had to use our own paper and pencils. Teachers can only make so many copies a year.” Peter explained factually. 

“I see,” the man nodded. Tony rounded so he could lean beside Peter and put the papers in front of the boy- but still be able to see it too. “Do you know what happened here? Why your score’s so low?” 

Peter looked at where his father was pointed. He had no clue at all. His teacher had circled all his questions. Not just the answer, which was usually the case, but the whole equation. And neither he, nor Ned knew what that meant. 

“Uhm...” 

“Your teacher wrote beside your equations. Can you tell me what’s different between yours and hers?” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at the paper. His messy pencil scrawl compared to his teacher’s nice red-penned printing. He squinted at the equations, comparing them all. 

“Uhm... mine are different?” Peter suggested. “All, uhm, all of my numbers are different...” 

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “You didn’t copy the equations right, honey. Your answers are all right, but they aren’t the right answers.” 

Peter tried to process that, but ended up staring at his father with an utterly confused face. 

“If they’re right, why are they wrong?” Peter huffed a breath of defeat, staring at his dad with blank eyes. 

“No, no,” Tony shook his head with a little, nervous laugh, “you answered the questions you wrote down right. You got all the right answers for your equations. But these...” Tony’s finger dropped onto the paper, then dragged down all of Peter’s pencil scrawl, “are not the questions the teacher had on the board.” 

“Oh.” Peter frowned, squinting harder down at his paper. “I thought they were right...” 

“I know,” Tony nodded easily, “I believe you, sweetheart.” 

Peter watched his father for a second. Tilting his head as the man stared around the kitchen for a second. Tony’s eyes landed on the clock hanging on the wall. 

“Pete,” Tony started, pointing up towards the clock hanging at the other side of the room. Tony himself could read it perfectly, but could Peter? “Can you tell me what time it is?” 

Peter squinted up at the clock. He couldn’t. He could read clocks like that, had learned when he was super young. But as of now, at the distance the clock was at, all the numbers were blurred together and he couldn’t even see the black hands of the clock. 

“Uhm,” he squinted harder, not wanting to disappoint his dad. His nose scrunched up as he leaned into the island, tucking his legs under himself to elevate himself closer, though it made no difference. Peter’s head tilted to get a different angle, but that didn’t help either. Tony watched silently, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and frowning hard. “E-eight twenty-five- no, twenty-seven.” 

“Eight twenty-seven?” Tony asked in surprise, glancing easily at the clock. “Peter, honey, eight o’clock is after your bedtime... you’ve just come home from school.” 

Peter’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and he exhaled an ‘o’ sound. “What time is it then?” 

“It’s four oh-three.” 

“Oh.” The boy looked at the clock sadly. He didn’t know what to do. 

“Is... are things that are far away kind of blurry? Hard to see?” Tony asked slowly, standing from his lean to steady himself by his palms pressed into the countertop. He stared down at Peter, and the boy stared right back up at him. 

“Are they... are they not supposed to be?” Peter asked quietly. 

“No, honey,” Tony laughed sadly, “it’s not supposed to be blurry. Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I can see though,” Peter explained, “I can see my papers, and my books-” 

“But you can’t see the board?” 

“Well, uh, not... not really. Sometimes when I’m in the front I can, but it makes my head hurt and I have to go like this to see,” Peter squinted his eyes up at his dad, “but that makes my head hurt more.” 

“Don’t squint then,” Tony thumbed Peter’s furrowed eyebrows softly, and then the boy’s face relaxed. 

“I think we need to make you a doctor’s appointment, honey.” 

“Why?” Peter whined, “’m not sick, Daddy.” 

“Not with your pediatrician,” the man laughed, ruffling his fingers through Peter’s curls, “we’re going to go see an ophthalmologist.” 

“A opto-what?” 

“Ophthalmologist,” Tony repeated slower, “that means an eye doctor.” 

“Oh...” Peter frowned. He picked up a strawberry and put it in his mouth. “What’s gonna happen there?” 

“They’ll gave you some test, like the one I just gave you. And see how your eyes work. If you’ll need glasses or not- which I’m pretty sure you will, Bambi.” 

“Glasses?” Peter gaped. The piece of red fruit in his fingers dropped back into the bowl, and Peter’s brown eyes followed his father, who was already scrolling through ophthalmologist offices, and their reviews. 

“Mhm,” the man hummed. “You’ll be able to see the board in class and read the clock in the kitchen. It’ll be good for you, sweetheart.” 

Peter didn’t like the sound of getting glasses. No one in his class had glasses. Not a single kid. There was only like ten people in the whole school with glasses. He couldn’t need glasses. 

He was already targeted. Glasses would only make that worse. Flash would have a field day with that. 

Though being able to see sounded nice- now that Peter knew that things being blurry wasn’t normal. 

\---- 

That next morning, Friday, Peter sat beside his father in his eye doctor’s office. Tony had gotten recommendations from Peter’s pediatrician, the evening before, for someone that could work with Peter’s anxiety and young age. Someone prepared to work a little harder to get the information he’d need from Peter. 

He couldn’t send his kid to school when he couldn’t see the board- that wasn’t fair to Peter, and it wasn’t fair to his teachers. Plus, it worked out almost perfectly that the ophthalmologist had an opening that following morning. A cancellation in their schedule that worked perfectly for Tony. 

Just before noon. 

When Peter was called back to be checked out, Tony found himself being dragged along. Peter’s nervous hand was clutched in the fabric of his slacks. It hurt the man’s heart, just how nervous his boy was. 

The doctor was pleasant. Introducing himself to Peter first, then to Tony as well. The exams were quick. And Peter failed each one. Squinting and tilting his head. The doctor kept his features school, praising Peter easily with each test. 

Tony, however, couldn’t stop frowning- or manage to keep his expression neutral. 

Guilt washed over him. Guilt that he hadn’t noticed sooner. He should’ve. As he thinks now, that Peter was always tilting his head when things were a bit of a distance away. He’d squint sometimes too. The books the boy was reading were held right close to his face, or he was leaned right over, nose almost touching the pages. 

The signs were all there, he’d just never noticed. 

Tony didn’t need glasses. His own father didn’t need glasses, and his mother only had a pair of reading glasses. So, this was a bit of a surprise. 

He supposed that someone on Mary’s side of the family might’ve had glasses. Tony honestly didn’t know much about her, or her family. But he was guessing that’s what happened. 

Peter’s attitude towards this was a lot better than Tony had assumed it would have been, just with how hesitant the idea of glasses had made him. He was being a real trooper as the doctor assessed him, asking questions and getting into Peter’s personal space as the exam progressed. 

He’d definitely be getting the boy some sort of treat... especially if what he thinks is about to happen happens. 

The exam ended soon enough, the doctor smiling brightly at the seven-year-old. Peter had taken to the kind eye doctor pretty easily. 

“Mister Stark,” the doctor called his attention, “can we have a word?” 

“Of course,” Tony nodded, eyes drifting to his kid. Peter had a lollipop buried in his mouth and he played silently with a Lego figure he’d produced from his pocket at some point in the exam. “We’re just gonna go talk over there, okay, Bambi?” 

Peter nodded his head, lifting his thumb up before focusing back on the Lego figure. 

Tony was quick to join the ophthalmologist on the other side of the room. 

“First, I think I should say that Peter’s a very clever young man,” the man tilted his head, eyes flickering to the boy still sitting in the exam chair, “it’s very clear that he’s having some problems with his vision.” 

“Yeah,” Tony breathed, just so the man knew he was listening. 

“Peter has myopia-” when Tony made a face of concern, the doctor was quick to continue, “which is just the fancy way of saying he’s nearsighted.” Tony blew out a light breath. That much he’d known. Peter always had his nose buried in books. He could read, could see the words. 

“That said,” the doctor continued, “his eyesight is pretty poor both at a distance and up close. Distance being the bigger concern, as I’m sure you know. As good as his reading is, he stumbles and squints at things up close to him too.” 

Tony nodded slowly, eyes shifting back to Peter again. 

“I’ve got a prescription for Peter. He will need glasses. They’ll definitely help with his school struggles, and the head tilt. The new prescription might give him headaches, but those will lessen as his eyes adjust to the glasses.” 

“Alright,” Tony forced a smile. He took the paper the doctor held out to him, glimpsing at the prescription before putting it in his pocket to use at their next destination. An optician. 

Thankfully, the eye doctor took it upon himself to explain everything to Peter- including the fact that he needed glasses. Tony did not want to have to be the one to break that to Peter. 

They left the office, with Peter trailing slowly behind the man. Tony helped Peter into his car seat, frowning at his boy’s withdrawn expression. 

“Glasses won’t be that bad, honey...” He whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to Peter’s head. With that, the man closed Peter’s car door, then got into his own seat. 

The optician wasn’t too far from the ophthalmologist's office, so, in no time Tony was opening Peter’s door once more and helping the boy out of the car. 

“You can pick any two pairs of glasses you want,” Tony told the boy, “I’m sure they have some cool ones.” 

“Okay,” Peter pouted. 

“And after that, we can get some McDonalds for lunch, huh? How’s it sound, Bambino?” 

“Sounds good,” Peter sighed. Tony pulled to door open, and Peter stepped into the small store. Around them were collections of glasses, as well as a decent number of mirrors. 

Peter frowned at the glasses on display, little arms crossing across his chest in distaste. He bit his bottom lip before raising his watery eyes up to his father. He was a little shocked to see his father already looking down at him, 

“I don’t want any glasses, daddy...” 

“I know, honey,” Tony sighed as well, settling his hand on top of Peter’s head, “but you need them. Think of how much easier school will be when you can see the board, and things far away?” 

“I guess...” Peter squinted his eyes to try and see some of the glasses frames, “I still don’t want ‘em.” 

“I know,” Tony shook his head, “I’m making an executive decision regarding your health though. You need these glasses, Kiddo. Probably should’ve had ‘em much sooner too. So, we’ll pick out a couple nice pairs. Just like sunglasses, but you’ll be able to see, right?” 

“Yeah,” Peter puckered his lips, making him look like a duck, “I guess.” 

True to his word, they picked out two nice pairs of glasses. They were relatively the same, both black frames that looked big on Peter’s small face, but it was adorable. The kid could really pull glasses off. 

“You look really handsome, Kid. And I’m not just saying that cause you’re my kid.” 

“Thanks Daddy,” Peter rolled his eyes as he slipped the frames off his face. But he knew, that was exactly why his dad had said he looked handsome. Because he was his dad. 

The worker took Peter’s prescription, as well as the two frames Peter had picked out. They’d need some time to put the prescription lenses in the frames Peter wanted. Tony managed to talk the woman into having Peter’s glasses finished by tomorrow morning. 

Which was perfect, since they could pick his new glasses up before dropping Peter off at Ned’s house for their Saturday together. 

They walked out of the small optician office hand in hand. Peter wasn’t as sad now, but he was in no way happy about the decision that he needed glasses. 

“So, nuggets or a burger from McDonalds?” 

\---- 

Peter stared down at the glasses in his hands. He was in the backseat, as his dad drove him to Ned’s house. 

“Please put them on, sweetheart?” Tony pleaded from the front seat. 

“No,” Peter frowned. After stewing over the thought of glasses all night, Peter had decided- “I look like a dork.” 

“Don’t say that,” Tony shook his head helplessly, “you look very smart with the glasses, honey.” 

“A nerd then.” 

“Peter,” Tony warned with a sigh. 

“They make my head hurt,” Peter pouted. And it was true. Even if the glasses had cleared the blurriness for those ten minutes he’d worn them before returning to the car, his head was already starting to hurt. 

“I know you don’t like them. But they’ll make your life so much easier. And the faster you start wearing them, the faster the headaches will go away. You’ll get used to them, I promise, honey.” 

Peter stared down at the black frames in his palms before sighing heavily. The boy folded the arms of the glasses up before slipping them on his face and settling the dip of the frames on the bridge of his nose. 

Instantly everything was clearer, which only had Peter pouting harder, since the dumb glasses actually helped. It sucked. 

“Good boy,” Tony grinned. He wanted to tell Peter how adorable he looked in his new glasses, but knew that wouldn’t end well. “They make you look very grown up, Bambi.” 

“They do?” Peter perked up a little. Not much, but a bit. 

“They sure do,” Tony nodded sharply as he pulled the car along the curb outside Ned’s apartment building. “Now, I want you to keep those glasses on your face the whole time, got it? Ms. Leeds will tell me if you’re not.” 

“Noooo,” Peter wiggled dramatically in his car seat. Of course, his dad had phoned ahead to talk to Ned’s mom. That’s such a grown-up thing to do. Why couldn’t he have just slipped his glasses off without Ned or Ms. Leeds knowing he had them to begin with? 

“And if your head starts to hurt a lot, tell Ned’s mom. I’ll come pick you, alright?” 

“Okay,” Peter nodded as he moved to unbuckle himself. “I’ll keep my new glasses on, and tell Ned’s mum if my heads hurtin’. Can I gooo now?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony shook his head fondly at the antsy child. “Be good, listen to Ms. Leeds. Love you.” 

“Okay, I will, and I love you too!” Peter chirped, opening his door and slipping from the car. He made his way up the walkway, turning to give his dad a floppy wave before entering the apartment building. 

Upstairs, Peter did not like the way Ned gaped at him. It almost hurt his feelings- that is, until Ned’s mother gave him a light shove to the back of his head. Ned stumbled forwards, then whipped around to glare at his mother. 

Peter giggled as the interaction before following Ned in as usual. 

“Don’t be rude, Ned,” Ned’s mother rolled her eyes. “I like your new glasses, Peter. They suit you very well.” 

“Thank you,” Peter flushed. His eyes were on Ned, who was still halfheartedly glaring at his mom, with his palm cupping the back of his head. 

“I wasn’t bein’ rude,” Ned huffed, “Just... y’know, you, you look different.” 

“Different?” Peter tilted his head. They’d started walking to Ned’s bedroom. Where they’d play with Legos until they decided it was movie time. 

“Good different.” Ned decided. “Glasses are cool. My cousin’s got glasses. And he’s like the coolest. Hey, can I try them on?” 

“Sure,” Peter shrugged, pulling the glasses off his face and handing them to his best friend to try on. 

“Woahh,” Ned blinked really fast after putting the glasses on his face, “everything's all fuzzy... how’d’ya see out of these, Peter?” 

“Everything’s the other way ‘round for me. It’s fuzzy without the glasses but clear with them.” Ned tugged the frames off his face, eyes going a little cross eyed before he held them back out to Peter. 

“Weird,” Ned tilted his head. Peter nodded his head, since it was weird, as he slipped the frames back on his face and instantly, he could see his surroundings again. “You can still play with Legos though, right?” 

“Yep!” Peter nodded with a grin. His finger lifted to push his new glasses up as they slid down a bit, “and I won’t even have to hold the instructions up to my nose anymore.” 

“Really?” Ned giggled. 

When the two were locked in Ned’s bedroom, with a new box of truck Lego set dumped on the floor, Peter finally let himself relax. 

“Do you think Flash’ll be mean to me?” 

Ned thought for a second, staring down at two pieces of Lego he held in either hand. He clicked them together before raising his attention with a somber expression, “more than usual, you mean?” 

“Yeah.” Peter rolled his eyes, digging his hand into the pile of Legos for no other reason than to feel the textures. “’course that’s what I meant.” 

“I don’t know,” Ned shook his head, fiddling with a piece of Lego, “I like your glasses. But... Flash is just mean for no reason... And you’re, like, the only kid in our grade to have them...” 

“Yeah,” Peter deflated. He reached up to take the glasses off his face, inspecting them thoughtfully (squinting lightly at them). He wiped the lenses, which had Ned’s finger prints on them from when he’s tried them on, on his shirt before slipping them back on his face. 

They did make such a big difference. Peter looked up at his best friend, frowning at the sheer concern lacing his features. 

“What?” 

“What?” Ned returned, sadness morphing into confusion. 

“You look sad. Why?” Peter watched his friend’s face change to one of almost embarrassment. 

“I always look like this when we talk about Flash. He’s so mean to you...” Peter blinked in surprise. He’d never... noticed. He’d never seen Ned look so distraught for his sake. Though, to be fair, he’d never really seen Ned’s face without it being blurry. 

“Harley’s mean to you,” Peter defended himself, or maybe he reminded his friend. He wasn’t sure which it was. 

“Yeah, I know... but he’d gotten kind of nicer to me- y'know, since your dad and his mom started dating. But Flash hasn’t.” 

“No,” Peter agreed with a sigh. “He hasn’t.” Peter pulled his leg up, hugging his arms around it as he let his chin fall onto his kneecap. His eyes were downward as he worried on his bottom lip. He was very aware of the trouble his new glasses were going to cause upon their return to school on Monday. 

“Uhm...” Ned’s eyes fell to the Legos piled before them, “let’s clean this up and go watched Star Wars in the living room. My mom found a Blu-ray copy that has an extra two minutes of movie on it, can you believe that?” 

“No way!” Peter perked up, “that’s so cool!” 

Peter joined his friend in scooping up handfuls of Lego pieces. 

\---- 

“It’ll be fun,” Tony prompted, eyes watching Peter in the backseat. 

“It won’t,” Peter frowned, self-consciously reaching up to touch his glasses. He’d already had to show Ned and Ned’s mom, and now they were going to dinner with Pepper and Harley. Not to mention in just one more day, he’d have to show his whole class- the whole school! 

“Peter,” Tony started, thinking his words out carefully, “I know that you don’t like your new glasses. It’s a big change. I know that. But there’s nothing we can do. I’m sorry, Sweetheart, but you’re too young for contacts.” 

Peter deflated a little into his seat. 

“Now, you like this restaurant, don’t you? Pepper and I planned this just for you. We can even get you something off the grown up’s menu. You do look very grown up in your glasses.” 

“I can?” Peter looked up in amusement. He only ever got food from a grown-up meal when he stole bits and pieces from his dad’s plate. “My own?” 

“Sure,” Tony grinned, “it’s a special day, right? You can finally see without everything being fuzzy, huh?” The man knew Peter wouldn’t make it through an adult meal. It wasn’t just because the prices were lower, Peter just couldn’t stomach much more than the kid’s menu portion. He knew that well. 

But it was worth paying the extra seven dollars if it meant seeing Peter’s attitude and smile brighten. 

“Let’s get in there,” Tony grinned, “Pepper and Harley are waiting for us.” 

“Okay,” Peter managed a small smile. He slipped from his car seat, sliding out of the car and walking side by side with his dad. 

The restaurant was full of laughter and conversations. No one paid any mind to Peter’s glasses. No one noticed him, or his father walking between tables and around chairs. 

Peter slipped the glasses off his face as his dad was busy locating his girlfriend and her son. He held them behind his back, hoping his dad maybe... wouldn’t notice? 

Peter was afraid of what Harley would say. He was scared of the faces the older boy would make, and the tease in his voice that neither his dad or Harley mom would notice. Scared to see the smirk hidden behind Harley’s happy smile. 

Before Peter knew what was happening (he was basically blind again) they paused right in front of a table. 

“Peter,” Tony sighed when he glanced down to see the boy glasses-less. “Please put them on.” 

Peter pouted, eyes glancing to the two already occupying the table before letting the hand he’d been holding behind his back drop to his side. Peter unfolded the glasses with a sigh, then slipped them back on his face. He slipped into the booth before his father, pushing himself against the wall and staring directly down at the table. 

“Don’t be shy, Bambi,” Tony mumbled as he slipped in after Peter. The boy’s bottom lip poked out at he lifted his attention to look at the two across from them. 

“Wow,” Pepper mumbled first, “you look very handsome in those, Peter. Very smart too.” 

“Really?” The boy’s attention shifted from Pepper to Harley- to the older boy’s face was neutral. And Peter didn’t really know what that meant? 

“Totally.” Pepper nodded with a smile. “You maybe even look smarter than your daddy with those glasses on.” 

“Hey!” Tony huffed, but couldn’t find it in himself to be offended, by the way Peter’s eyes brightened and his smug grin turned to him. 

“I’m an intellectual,” Peter grinned, chest puffing out a little. 

“You sure are with words like that,” Tony laughed, ruffling Peter’s curls, “now where’d you hear a word like that?” 

“Steve,” Peter grinned, “he said it to Bucky when I was at their house after school on Monday.” 

“Ah,” Tony shook his head. “That makes sense. As it stands, Pete, Steve is not an intellectual.” 

“That’s not nice,” Peter tried to huff out through his giggles. It wasn’t out of the usual, his dad would tease Steve like this to his face as well. Steve and Bucky would always just laugh. 

Conversation faded off to what everyone was going to order. Despite being able to pick anything of the menu, Peter still zeroed in on the grilled cheese and french fries dish he always ordered from the restaurant. 

A waiter came and took their orders, and they all received beverages of their choices. Peter played absently with his fork in boredom, but almost dropped it to the table when his dad asked Harley a question. 

“What do you think of Peter’s glasses, Harls?” 

“I... I like them,” Harley managed a smile. “They look really nice, Pete.” 

The younger boy’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t find any sarcasm, or dishonesty in Harley’s face. Which was... surprising. 

“You think?” Peter asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Harley gave a small smile. 

“I think Pete’s just a bit nervous to show up to school on Monday. Only a few other kids have glasses, right, Bambi?” 

“No one in my grade,” Peter sighed, attention dropping to the table. “I’m going to be the only nerd.” 

“Hey,” Tony scolded once more, soft and upset sounding, “don’t call yourself a nerd, Peter.” 

“Only, like, ten kids have glasses at school, Daddy,” Peter shook his head, frowning hard. His eyes lifted to Harley, who caught the unsaid ‘and Flash’ll definitely find them entertaining’. 

Harley’s own eyes dropped to the table too. 

It was a quiet meal. Neither parent could get their kid to say anything. Peter ate only half of his meal, and Harley just a little more of his own. This bonding date hadn’t had the wanted results, as each parent left with a silent child after they’d all finished eating. 

\---- 

On Monday morning, Peter’s dad drove him to school. His dad had let him sleep in a little later than usual, driven him to school after a breakfast of toast, and even stopped at a fast food restaurant to get Peter a burger to put in his lunch as a special treat to look forward too. 

It was nice. But it didn’t make up for the glasses perched on his nose- making everything clearer, but also making him look like a dweeb. If Flash hadn’t called him a dork already, he definitely would be now. 

Surprisingly, Peter’s peers were more so interested in his glasses. A couple of his friends tried them on, much like Ned had, while others just stared at him when he was wearing them. By lunchtime, it was as if Peter had had his glasses since the start of school. 

No one batted an eyelash at the new addition. No one said anything. No one teased him. 

It was lunch break, when Peter was suddenly afraid to have his new glasses. 

He and Ned made it outside like usual, this time with books instead of a Lego set. They read silently for a while, until Flash and his gang showed up. 

Peter couldn’t help but notice Harley’s absence. Which was weird. 

“Well, well, well,” Flash’s grin was wide and dangerous. “What’cha got there, dork?” 

“Uhm... glasses?” Peter’s quiet voice replied. Peter cowered back a little, but still kept himself in front of Ned, just in case. He really hoped Flash wouldn’t break his glasses- how would he explain that to his dad. 

Peter watched as Flash opened his mouth to continue, but just as he was about to speak, a new voice interrupted. 

“Hey, Guys,” it was Harley, “I’ve been looking for you guys. My mom just dropped me off.” 

Everyone’s attention flicked towards the newcomer, and Peter’s eyes widened. Ned’s jaw dropped, and Flash, narrowed his eyes as his mouth flattened into a straight line. 

There, perched on Harley’s face, was a pair of glasses quite similar to Peter’s own. Glasses Peter had never seen, either at Harley's home, at his own home, or at school at all. Glasses Harley hadn't had before this moment.

“What’s on your face?” Flash asked slowly, turning to stare at the boy only months younger than himself. 

“Really? You’re top of your class, man. One would think you’d know these are glasses, Flash.” 

“I know what they are,” Flash hissed, glancing back towards the two second graders, “why are they on your face?” 

“Because my eye doctor said I needed them? I just got them this morning. I like ‘em, y’know? People keep thinking I’m older than I am. The lady at the front desk thought I was in the seventh grade, can you believe it? Plus, I can see now.” 

“Really?” Flash’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “We could work with that- so, hey, when I showed you, y’know, that picture, you couldn’t see it?” 

“Ah, not really. Blurry. Show me again?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got it in my backpack. Let’s go.” Flash led the group away, leaving the two second graders gaping at where the two had been standing. 

“What?” Ned asked in astonishment. 

\---- 

“He wanted to get glasses?” Tony asked slowly into the phone, “for... for Peter?” 

“That’s what he said,” Pepper replied with a fond smile, “I just dropped him off. He spent practically all morning searching through the glasses selections at Wal-Mart.” 

“You’re kidding,” Tony laughed softly, “and he doesn’t need them? No eye problems?” 

“Nope,” Pepper huffed a laugh as well. “None whatsoever Perfect vision. He’s basically got frames with plastic in them.” 

“For Peter?” Tony repeated. 

“For Peter,” Pepper agreed, “he was pretty upset in the car on Saturday, wanted to do something to make it easier on Peter. This was what he had in mind, I guess.” 

“That’s... wow, Pep.” 

“I know,” Pepper shook her head fondly. 

“I didn’t know they were... as close of friends as they are,” Tony mumbled into the phone, “that’s... really nice. Thank you. I’m sure that really helped Peter today.” 

And it really had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to add this cute little Harley softening the blow of Peter needing glasses. I thought it was adorable, and I had to add it. One of my friends actually suggested it, so shout out to them :)
> 
> Also, can we all take a moment to appreciate lil' Petey in glasses? That's heckin' adorable. I love him so much. I'm trying to tie everything together, from different eras of the Marvel Universe- a bit from the comics and a bit from the films (mostly the films).
> 
> Anyways, as always, comments are very appreciated! Even if I don't respond (socially anxious even through a screen), I do read each and every one (I'll answer any questions to the best of my abilities though!)! And they all motivate me, and make me super happy to see! Anything you wanna say; questions, comments, concerns, opinions or constructive criticism. (Also bookmarks, subscribes and kudos much appreciated too!) Lemme know what you guys are thinking! As well as any plot ideas you wanna see! They will all be moving in very soon, if no one has any other ideas for me to delay that somehow.
> 
> Anywho! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next update. Also, I hope everyone's safe and sound with the pandemic happening world-wide. We're on our way to lock-down where I live, like Italy at this point, so wish me luck :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Another new chapter. 
> 
> I hope everyone's doing alright with the pandemic. People be stressed, and scared, so I hope you're all alright! Things are crazy out there. I've been self isolating (no difference there). Anyways, things were crazy, but it's almost calming down here, thankfully. Where I live has stores stocked again! We have toilet paper, guys! But I know a lot of places are still a mess. A friend in the US mentioned things still being crazy. So hopefully everything is okay for you, where ever you live.
> 
> Nonetheless, have some fluff to make you feel better! I missed Ned, so he's here. Gotta love Peter's guy-in-the-chair!

Half days were unusual at Midtown School. Unusual, but perfectly normal all the same. A disgrace to working parents, the school district dismissing the students early due to teacher’s personal development seminars. 

Understood, but a pain in his ass all the same. 

Tony sighed, adjusting the cuff links on his wrist. He’d need to leave in twenty minutes to pick Peter, and Ned, since Tony had promised to take Ned home with him since his mother would be stuck at work until four that evening (they’d arranged for her to pick Ned up at six, since Tony knew the woman was completely stressed), up from school. 

Then he’d need to do lunch, and help them with their homework (if they needed it, those clever little boys). He’d need to do something for dinner, as well. Have ways besides Legos and films (which they watched way too much of) to entertain them, without turning them into mindless TV zombies. 

Tony sat himself at his desk- a nice spacious office in Stark Industries, right down the hall from Pepper- and scrawled his signature on a paper Pepper had pre-approved. He trusted her, and she only sent necessities to him to be signed off on. 

Their partnership was like a well-oiled machine, running perfectly and without fail. Pepper made sure everything was right, and in order and taken care of, and Tony didn’t question anything, signing off and allowing his CEO to do what was best for, let’s face it, their company. 

Stark Industries would be underwater if it wasn’t for Pepper Potts. The woman kept the business afloat, far better than Tony had. It may have been Tony's name on the building, and the paperwork passed through, but Pepper was the brains and heart of the company. It just worked. 

It didn’t take too much time for the man to make it through the small stack of papers on his desk. They collected over the days he was in the garage, instead of coming to the company. But there were never too many. Pepper kept things in check, and only sent what was really needed. 

He finished well before the twenty minutes in which he’d need to leave if he wanted to make it to the school on time for the twelve-twenty lunch dismissal. 

With the little bit of extra time, the man walked himself to his CEO’s office, to check in on her. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but it certainly wasn’t Pepper hunched over a booklet of papers, with a stack nearly the size of her head sitting on her left side. 

Her eyes were narrowed on the paper with a sheer frustrated intensity, that almost had the man stepping backwards, turning swiftly and high-tailing it out of the office. 

“Pep?” he asked quietly, and her attention snapped up to him. It relaxed just as fast as her glare turned to him, but she still looked beyond frustrated. “What do you have there?” 

“The internship applications,” Pepper explained shortly, eyes falling right back to the paper. “They got lost somewhere down the line, and now I have the next twenty-four hours to read them all, accept or deny, and then e-mail each and every applicant with their results.” 

“Oh.” Tony’s mouth formed shape of the word he’d muttered. 

“Oh indeed,” Pepper sighed. She capped her pen, then looked up at the man standing in her doorway, “did you need something, or is this a personal visit?” 

It wasn’t unfriendly per se, but there was a glint of something that could only be frustration in her eyes. Tony opened and closed his mouth once, before forming words. 

“I was just coming to say goodbye for the day,” the man explained, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind himself. 

“Goodbye?” Pepper asked incredulously. Her eyes snapped to the clock hanging on the wall, then back to Tony’s face with confusion, “it’s just before twelve?” 

“I have to pick Peter up,” the man informed. Pepper’s confusion remained for another second, before her eyes turned soft and sympathetic. 

“Did he get sick?” 

“Huh?” Tony raised an eyebrow, “not... not that I know of?” 

The man watched confusion cross Pepper’s face once more, “why are you picking him up early then?” 

For a moment, Tony thought she was kidding. Harley attended the same school- she had to know it was a half day. Had to know all the little monsters were being released at noon. But when the charade didn’t fall, the man realized that it was no playful charade at all. Pepper had forgotten. 

“Pep,” Tony said calmly, “it’s a half-day at Midtown today... I’ve got to pick Peter up- oh, and Ned. He’s coming with me today too.” 

“Shit!” the man was glad he’d closed the door to the office when he entered, “shit, shit, shit! I completely forgot! Oh my God, Harley’s going to be so mad at me,” Pepper sighed, “I can’t even-” she gestured wildly to the stacks of paper covering her desk, “I don’t even know when I’ll be able to leave the office-” 

“Don’t worry about it, I can take him,” Tony mumbled. “I’ll just bring him home with me. I’ve got nothing going on this afternoon anyways- and if need be, Harley’s welcome to spend the night, if you need some time for yourself, sweetheart.” 

Pepper froze, seemingly think the offer over. “Are you sure?” she asked carefully, “you’ve already got Ned and Peter to worry about...” 

“Nonsense,” Tony shook his head, “Harley’s an angel, and you know it.” 

“We talkin’ about the same kid?” Pepper joked, but the nervous smile remained. “Are you really sure it’s not a bother?” 

“Positive.” Tony gave a firm nod, snaking his hand along the wooden desk and over the papers to settle his fingers on Pepper’s tense hand, “three kids is no sweat- plus the kid’ll keep me company with Peter and Ned being inseparable.” 

“If you’re sure,” Pepper sighed. It was as close to agreeance as the man was going to get, “thank you. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Tony.” 

“No sweat,” the man grinned, standing up slowly, “now, I gotta get going if I wanna be the first in the pick-up line. You know how much I like being first. No one stands a chance against me.” 

Tony leaned across the desk to press a chaste kiss to Pepper’s lips before backing up and walking towards the door, “Harley’s in good hands- I'm almost an expert at kids at this point. Don’t work too hard and I’ll see you whenever, alright, sweetheart?” 

“See you whenever,” the woman snorted, “thanks again.” 

The man gave a curt nod, grinning widely before opening the office door and stepping into the hallway. 

“Just give me a call when you’re on your way and I’ll make sure the kid’s ready to leave.” 

“Okay,” Pepper smiled, “see you later.” 

“Bye, Sweetheart!” and with that, the man let the door fall closed behind himself. 

\---- 

Peter rushed out of the school with Ned on his tail. He was excited for the half-day, since they only happened every couple months. And Ned was coming home with him for the evening too. 

It wasn’t even the day Ned was usually supposed to come over, but Peter didn’t mind at all. He was happy his best friend was coming until six o’clock tonight. 

The boy’s eyes roamed to find his father’s black Audi parked in the front of the pick-up line, and grinned wide. The boy pushed his glasses up his nose, glanced back to make sure he hadn’t lost Ned, then sprinted to his dad’s car. 

“C’mon, Ned!” Peter called, pulling the door open. 

“Hey, Bambi,” his dad greeted, “hi, Ted!” he added a little louder to the boy standing just behind Peter on the sidewalk. 

“Hi, Mister Stark!” Ned chirped back followed by a giggle at being misnamed. Peter didn’t know why his dad did it, but it was funny nonetheless. And Ned liked it, so Peter like it too. He laughed along with his friend, as his dad smiled from the front seat. 

Ned slid into the car first, passing over Peter’s car-seat. Ned was bigger, and taller than Peter was, and he’d already grown out of his car-seat. He passed all the requirements for a normal seat, and the seatbelt fit him right without a car-seat. It was dumb that Ned didn’t need one, when he was only a couple months older than Peter. 

When Ned was across, Peter climbed in after him. They dropped their backpacks to the floor and buckled in. 

“We’re ready to go, Daddy!” Peter grinned, giving his friend a sly smile. They were going to build a city with Legos. They never really had the time, but today they would. 

“That’s great, Kiddo,” Tony laughed, “we have to wait a bit longer though.” 

“What for?” Peter asked in confusion, tilting his head, then glancing to see a similar expression of confusion on Ned’s face. 

“You’ll see,” the man laughed. 

It was two long, boring minutes later that Peter noticed Harley stepping from the school. Flash, nor any of the group was with him. It was just Harley, and a kid Peter had never seen before. Peter turned in his seat to look out the back window, and see if he could spot Pepper, but the sound of a door opening drew in his attention, and snapped his gaze to the front seat, where his father was standing from his seat and _waving_ Harley over. 

Peter watched confusion cross over Harley’s face as the older boy stepped towards the car and pulled the passenger’s door open as Peter’s dad sat himself back in his chair, and shut his own door again. 

“Hey, Harls,” Tony greeted, “your mom’s swamped with paperwork, so you’re coming with us for the evening, alright?” 

Peter’s positive mood crashed to the floor. He looked towards Ned, who looked terrified. Harley was meanest to Ned. But his dad didn’t know that. And neither Peter or Ned would dare explain that with Harley in the vehicle with them. 

“Oh,” Harley said softly as he slipped his bookbag off and set it on the floor of the car before climbing in. Peter watched silently as Harley buckled his own seat belt, and, only then, did his father pull the car away from the curb and start driving. 

The older boy turned, catching sight of the two seven-year-olds in the back seat. Peter watched his eyebrows furrow, and his mouth form an ‘o’ shape, before he swiftly faced forwards again. 

There was an unsettling silence in the car. Peter and Ned not daring to talk, even though any other day (without Harley) they’d be quoting Star Wars to each other or talking about their classes. 

Harley didn’t say anything either, which was probably Ned’s presence. And Peter knew his dad just didn’t usually talk while driving. He liked to focus on the road. 

“So, uh, what do you boys think of heading out for lunch? Ned, where would you like to go for lunch?” 

“Uhm,” Ned’s attention shot in Peter’s direction, fear clouding his eyes. Peter almost groaned at his father putting the spotlight on his antsy best friend. 

“I want McDonalds,” Peter answered boldly. He gave his friend a side glance, both of them knowing Peter answering for Ned would irk his father. That was also a problem the teachers at school were always complaining about. 

“Yeah... yeah! I want... uhm, I want McDonalds too.” 

Ned’s nervous eyes flickered to Harley this time, but the older boy remained quiet and thoughtful. 

“Two votes for McDonalds, what about you, Harls? What are you feeling for lunch?” 

“McDonalds works for me,” the older boy shrugged. 

“McDonalds it is then,” Tony shrugged, “that was easier than I thought it was going to be.” 

Peter liked going to McDonalds- especially when they got to go inside and eat. His dad always let him play in the play-place for a while, and it was always a highlight of the outing. 

Today was no different. Peter had decided on a chicken nugget happy meal, with a fountain drink and apple slice. Ned had gotten a cheese burger, apple juice and french fries happy meal. 

Harley and his dad both got regular meals- which didn’t come with a toy. A silly move on Harley’s part. 

They ate just outside the play room. Peter’s eyes stared longingly at the structure as he nibbled on chicken nuggets. 

“I’m done,” Peter told his father, pushing the cheerful happy meal box towards his father. He’s finished half of everything, but he wasn’t really hungry. He wanted to climb around and slide. 

“Me too!” Ned cheered as he shoved the last of his fries into his mouth. 

Tony eyed the two for a second, pulling Peter’s box towards himself to inspect how much the boy had eaten before dismissing them. Peter ate less than he would’ve liked, but it wasn’t worth the battle. 

“Twenty minutes, got it? When I say it’s time to go, you better come right out.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” Peter grinned, slipping out of his chair and pulling Ned along by a tight grip on his friend’s sleeve. The disappeared into the adjoining room, slipping off their shoes and crawling into the padded structure. Both carrying the new toy they’d received with their meal. 

McDonalds was the best. Toys and a play-place. What could be better? 

They made it to the top rather fast, sitting silently with their knees pulled up to their chests to talk just at the opening to the swirly tube slide. 

“Harle-” 

“I know,” Peter cut his friend off with a sigh, playing with a thread on his black socks, “I didn’t know he was coming; I promise.” 

If Peter and Ned hadn’t made such a big deal to have Ned come over for the half day, since his mother was working, he would’ve got to the usual after school care program he went to. But they had, and thought themselves pretty persuasive and successful (though the more or less begged until their parents grew tired of the whines). 

And they wouldn’t have bothered trying if they knew Harley was thrown in the mix too. Ned didn’t want to put himself any closer to Harley than he had to, and Peter felt the need to protect his best friends, and made an effort to arrange play-dates with his best friend when he knew Harley would not be around. 

And now Ned was being subjected to Harley. Even though the older boy hadn’t really done anything yet. Planning and begging thrown out the window. There was no way out of this, not until six tonight, or whenever Pepper came around to pick Harley up—if she even did. Peter didn’t know if the older boy was spending the night again, not that it made much a difference to Peter. 

“I told you though,” Peter looked up finally, “he’s different here. When he’s with Flash... that’s not.... it’s not the same Harley who comes over to my house. Not anymore, at least.” 

“But he doesn’t like me,” Ned whined, “he has to like you now. He doesn’t have to like me.” 

“He won’t do anything,” Peter informed firmly, “not with my dad around. But... if he is mean to you, I’ll tell my dad.” 

“Really?” Ned blinked, “I thought you didn’t want to?” 

“I don’t,” Peter sighed, scooching to the slide opening, “but I will if he’s mean to you.” 

With that, the younger of the two slipped into the slide and slid down. Ned followed shortly behind, and the two climbed right back up. 

“Do you think he’ll be mean?” 

“No,” Peter shook his head. “It would be dumb to do that at my house. You’re my best friend. And it’s my house. Harley’s smarter than that.” 

“I guess,” Peter’s companion sighed. He didn’t look convinced though. Peter could only hope Harley behaved. It would make him sad if Ned wanted to stop coming over on the off-chance Harley might be around as well. 

They placed quietly, each with a brand-new plastic happy meal toy in hand. They were Ninja toys. Ned’s had a button on the back that made its arm swing a stick side to side, and Peter’s own did a backflip when you bent the torso of the toy forwards. 

They were pretty cool, and made for a fun game of ninja. 

It felt like only minutes before Peter’s dad opened the glass door and called them out. With matching pouts, the seven-year-olds slid down the slide one final time. They made quick work of their shoes, not that they had much of a choice with Peter’s dad looming over them to make sure they did as they were told, instead of getting distracted by talking. 

They all loaded into the car, but this time, Harley and Peter’s dad were talking- probably continuing the conversation they’d been engrossed in while Peter and Ned had fun in the play room. 

Peter stared out his window, fingers fidgeting with his toy. The sky was cloudy, but it wasn’t cold, or raining. In fact, Peter could see bits of the sun peeking out from certain spots in the clouds. It was pretty. 

Time flew by as Peter watched the sky, and before he knew it, they were pulling into the driveway. 

Everyone was quick to get out, Peter, his dad and Harley all opening their doors, but Ned simply crawling out Peter’s. The kids all grabbed their bags, and Tony walked up to the house, with the key in hand to unlock the door. 

“Alright, you all got a treat for lunch, now we’re going to do homework before we play. Maybe you guys can go outside if it doesn’t start raining, sound good?” 

“Sounds good,” Peter nodded absentmindedly as he walked in the threshold and instantly sat on the floor to remove his shoes. 

Harley entered next, kicking his own shoes off and making a bee-line towards the dining room, where he and Peter had on multiple occasions done their homework side by side. 

Ned entered last, steps small and nervous like something was going to jump out t him. He sat n the bench by the door to remove his own shoes, placing them neatly against the wall, like he always did when visiting. 

Tony watched the line of children enter the house one by one, furrowing his eyebrows at Ned’s unusually skittish movements. The kid had been coming to his house for years now- since he and Peter met at daycare. 

Kids were weird though, so the man didn’t bother mentioning it. Not with Peter and Harley around, anyways. He wasn’t going to embarrass Ned. It was probably just Harley’s presence spooking him. Harley was an older kid, and all Ned really knew was Peter and himself being alone in the house. 

So, he’d see how things played out before deciding whether to get himself involved in the school yard problems. 

Almost as a routine, Peter and Harley found the chairs they’d silently claimed in the dining room, and sat quietly, pulling their homework books and worksheets out. Ned pulled himself onto the chair closest to Peter, even going the extra mile to push it a little closer to his couple-months-younger friend. 

Harley said not a word before focusing on his homework. 

Peter and Ned had matching homework sheets. It was science questions, which were Peter’s favorite. Math was Ned’s strong point. He was completely interested in coding, which they sometimes looked at in the computer labs, but Peter was a science kid through and through. 

So, Peter took the metaphorical reigns with this worksheet, and then he’d hand them over to Ned when they moved onto the math worksheet. 

Their friendship, and partnership worked so well, since they knew how to teach the other in the subject they were lacking. Peter was happy he had a Ned around. 

“I have to take a call, you boy alright by yourselves?” Peter’s dad called from the kitchen doorway. He was taking care of that morning’s dishes- they'd had oatmeal- and letting the boys work on their homework quietly. 

“We’re fine,” Harley answered without looking up from where he was scratching some numbers down on his own homework. 

Peter gave a nod as he stared down at his work, and Ned even voiced a nearly silent ‘mhm’. 

Tony left out to the garage to answer the frantic call of Pepper asking whether he thought a bioengineering degree, or a bachelors in computer science was better suited for an interning position at Stark Industries. 

Peter watched out of the corner of his eye as his dad left to take the call. His attention then shifted to Ned, who was staring at him as if Harley was going to jump at him and shove him from his chair. 

The older boy didn’t move though, other than to pencil in another equation. 

Peter shook his head at Ned, as the they had a conversation with their eyes. Peter mostly calming the frantic shifting of his friend’s eyes. 

“I’m not going to do anything, y’know,” Harley’s voice broke their eye contact. He didn’t look up. Hadn’t at all, since they’d sat down. “I promise, you don’t have to worry, Ned. You won’t even know I’m here.” 

And that... it almost made Peter frown. Harley’s voice was soft, defeated. Like he didn’t want to be here anymore that Peter and Ned wanted him around. As much as he didn’t want Harley picking on his best friend, he didn’t want to... single him out either. 

Believe it or not, Peter kind of like Harley. When Flash wasn’t around, at least. He considered them to be... almost friends. Harley was fairly nice to him when it was just the two of them, or the two of them and their parents. 

But he didn’t say anything. Only glanced between the two other boys. 

“I’ll just... I don’t know, watch a movie or something. I’ll leave you guys alone though.” 

Ned looked relieved, but Peter couldn’t brush the feeling that... maybe they were being the bullies this time. Harley hadn’t done anything today. Nothing to be singled out for. It wasn't Harley’s fault he way here. 

Peter and Ned finished their homework first. It was easier, and they had the other to help when one of them got stuck. 

And with the homework out of the way, that meant they could move on to their plans. Lego city time. 

“Ned’n’me are finished, Daddy!” Peter called out into the garage on their way passed the doorway. The youngest peeked through in time to see his dad wave him off. They’d get their homework checked after dinner. “We’re gonna play Legos now.” 

“Alright,” Tony glanced at the two in the doorway, pulling the cellphone from his ear and holding it to his chest to muffle their conversation for the person on the other end, “I’ll check on you in a bit.” 

Peter didn’t bother responding, just followed Ned up the stairs, chancing a look back at Pepper’s son, who stared almost sadly at his homework. 

And... Peter could decide whether he was sad he had homework... or sad that he wasn’t invited to play with them... 

Up in Peter’s room, they dumped the whole bucket of spare Legos, spreading the pile of multi-coloured pieces along the floor. They set to work building. Peter already had some build cars and other vehicles. Some sets, and other just stemming from his imagination. 

They worked on houses, and buildings. Peter was working on making Stark Industries, while Ned made his own apartment building and Peter’s house. 

Peter tried to focus on his project, but his thoughts were nagging him that he was being unfair. Harley was by himself, while Peter was busy with Ned. And that didn’t seem fair. Not when, in theory, they could all play Legos together. What harm would it do if Harley sat on the floor beside them and built something of his own? 

None Peter could see. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Peter told his friend, standing quickly and leaving his bedroom. Sure, there was a bathroom upstairs, but.... there was also a bathroom downstairs, and Peter was sure that’s the one he needed to go to. 

Downstairs, Peter noticed Harley sitting on the couch, bored and sad looking. A cartoon played on the tv, and Peter’s dad was sitting in the recliner, also watching the cartoon. 

“I’m sure Peter and Ned won’t mind you joining them,” Peter ducked down as his dad spoke. 

“No...” Harley sighed, “I shouldn’t. They had this planned, I think. I don’t want... intrude, I guess.” 

Even Harley’s voice sounded sad. Sad and left out. Lonely, despite Peter’s dad sitting across from him. 

“I-” Peter spoke before he could stop himself, both his dad, and Harley’s eyes shot towards the sound of Peter’s voice. He swallowed, thinking if this was really his best course of action. Would Ned be mad? Was Peter misjudging this? Possibly. “I thought you were coming up to play when you finished your homework?” Peter bit the bullet and forced a smile. 

There was just enough hesitance that Harley could deny, if he wanted to. If Peter had been reading this wrong. But he was honest all the same. An honest invitation to the older boy to join them in playing Legos. 

“Are you sure?” Harley asked carefully. It wasn’t Peter’s feelings he was talking about, the boy knew that much. It was Ned’s. Harley was making sure Ned was alright with it. 

Peter shrugged, then nodded. “I’m sure.” 

“Don’t stay on my behalf,” Tony spoke easily, brushing Harley away, “I’m sure I can find something to entertain myself with. Go, shoo. Have fun.” 

Harley got up, slow and uncertain. He followed behind Peter, who hadn’t even bothered going to the bathroom, even though he actually, kinda, needed too. 

Peter led Harley silently. It wasn’t the first time Harley’s been in his bedroom, and probably wouldn’t be the last. 

“You’re back, good I was-” And Ned froze. Eye trained on the person stood awkwardly behind Peter. Peter decided to make nothing of it, simply sitting in his spot in front of what was going to be SI and picking up another piece to add to the growing building. 

There was a tense moment of silence, where no one spoke. Ned stared in awe, at the 10-year-old standing hesitantly, leaning back against the closed door. Harley didn’t look in the least bit intimidating, as he shuffled from foot to foot, wringing his hands together anxiously. 

“Can we all not just play Legos together?” Peter asked quietly, already sick of whatever weird dance his friends and Harley were doing around each other. “Harley’s not gonna do anything, Ned. And Harley, Ned’s cool. I don’t want anyone left out. I’m sure we can all get alone for today, can’t we?” 

Both Harley and Ned stared at Peter, but the youngest just stared down at his building, clicking more pieces into place. 

“I guess,” came Harley’s reply. Uncertain, and maybe even afraid of the situation. 

Harley’s movements were slow as he moved to kneel on the floor. He was as far from Ned as he could get, which, in turn, made him closer to Peter. Not that Peter minded at all. He’d be the peace barrier if they needed that. 

“Good,” Peter nodded his head, pushing a potion of the Lego pile towards Harley, “we’re building a city. I’m making Stark Industries-” 

“I... I’m making my apartment building,” Ned said slowly, eyes studying the boy kneeling as far away from him as he could. “And Peter’s house.” 

“Cool,” Harley bowed his head. “Uh, I’ll... um, I’ll make the school then.” 

“We didn’t think of the school!” Ned gasped, and Peter too was surprised they’d forgotten. 

“How would the Lego people have taught their children,” Peter tutted. 

“Homeschool?” Harley shrugged, though he was already working away on walls for the school. 

“Homeschool’s no fun,” Ned shook his head, searching through the piles for a window piece for Peter’s house, “how do people make any friends?” 

“I don’t know,” Harley shook his head, “maybe clubs or something. I have a bunch of friends on my soccer team? That’s not related to school at all. It’s a community thing.” 

“Oh,” Ned frowned thoughtfully, “maybe.” 

“Harley’s soccer friends are so nice!” Peter chirped, “we went out to get ice-cream with one named Miles, and he was the greatest!” 

“Miles is awesome,” Harley agreed with a laugh. 

“I like soccer, but I’m not too good at it.” Ned shook his head, laughing softly to himself. 

Peter grinned silently to his lap. Ned was calming down, and relaxing. And Harley was being nice like he was with his team, and with Peter, and with their parents. It was all working out. Thankfully. 

“I wasn’t when I started either,” Harley informed absently, “I’m still not. Not really. But it’s fun. And it’s nice to have a team.” Harley paused, but only for a second, and then he was look up at Ned was a small smile, “Maybe you could join the community team? There’re other teams with people more your age. My team's kids nine through eleven.” 

“Maybe,” Ned shrugged, “I’ll ask my mom.” 

Ned said it nonchalantly, but Peter could tell he was actually pretty excited at the thought. And it made him happy that something Harley suggested had his best friend so happy. 

“I know I won’t,” Peter laughed. “I don’t like sports at all.” 

“I know,” Ned snorted a laughed. “Peter’s terrible at sports.” 

“Hey!” 

“I know,” Harley laughed. “You’ve just got other strengths, Pete.” 

Peter couldn’t find it in himself to be upset with them. Not when they were both laughing, and he was laughing as well. He couldn't be mad when the room was light, and filled with laughter and clicks of Legos. 

The next time Ned caught Peter’s eye, hours later after Peter’s father had delivered a bag of chips for them to share, his best friend was grinning and joking easily with the older boy. 

He grinned at Peter, and bowed his head thoughtfully, before laughing at Harley, who’d pushed just a little too hard and crumbled his Lego wall. Harley laughed bashfully, before starting again. 

Finally, Ned could see why Peter was so confused by this kid. He was just glad everyone could get along. His best friend, and the kid who was his father’s girlfriend’s son. All Peter knew, was Harley had Ned’s stamp of approval, which was awesome for if they ever had to all play together again. 

Ned wasn’t scared. Harley was relaxed. And no one was left out. 

Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for reading! Once more, I wish you all well. 
> 
> Comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscribes are all greatly appreciated! Let me know how I did, offer any chapter suggestions, or anything, really! Each comment is read and appreciated. I love seeing them! :D
> 
> Anywho, I'll see you next update! Stay safe!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie here, this was one of the first chapters I wrote (I edited it to come after what's already written, but you might find some mistakes in timing). My friend, you know who you are, read the first few chapters I had and suggested something like this- who am I to disappoint? Plus, I liked how it turned out hurt/comfort is my favorite thing to write. Originally, I was going to write and Easter chapter, but... I lost interest in that after like 300 words. So, I hope this is suffice after the wait. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy some Peter whump (injury), some doting father Tony and some Harley and Pepper with Peter. :)

Everything seemed to be alright for Peter. He was really getting to know Pepper, and Harley. They all spent loads of time together, and it was almost fun to have the older boy to hang out with. Within reason, at least. 

Peter couldn’t deny that he’d been spending a lot more time with his dad, as well as Pepper and Harley. They did a lot together. Went on a bunch of outings. 

Trips to the zoo, multiple meals out at restaurants. They went to each other's houses for meals, and sometimes Harley would sleepover at Peter’s house for a night, or Peter sleepover with Pepper and Harley at their penthouse. 

Of course, just because they were starting to get along, Harley wasn't always nice. And Peter wasn’t either. They still had secrets, kept on the downlow from their parents. Peter simply didn’t want to bother anyone- his father especially. The boy assumed Harley just didn’t want to admit to being a jerk at school. 

There had been times, when Peter’s father and Pepper had disappeared onto the deck or a glass of wine, that left Peter and Harley alone inside. 

When left to his own devices, more times than not, Harley would still tease him- or do a jerky action, like playing a horror movie, despite Peter being terrified of it. Or, sometimes he’d chase Peter around. 

Peter wasn’t actually sure if this was a game or not, but it always had his adrenaline pumping as if he were being chased by a feral animal or something. Usually when that happened, he’d just hide in his bedroom, slipping his desk chair under the doorknob to keep it from opening. 

Harley would try to get in, but give up after a while. So, Peter would resort to reading silently, at least, until his dad came in and was mad that Peter not only locked his door- which he'd never really been allowed to do- but that he’d also left Harley alone in the living room. Peter didn’t see the big deal, but his dad always seemed upset he’d left a guest alone. 

School hadn’t really changed either. 

It was like a secret that Peter’s dad and Harley’s mom were dating. Neither spoke word of it. And Harley had even gone as far as to threaten Peter not to tell anyone. It a particularly threatening threat, but a bit scary nonetheless. 

Ned was the only one from school, beside Harley and Peter- and maybe some teachers- who knew. It was strange, but Peter didn’t mind his friend knowing. Plus, now that Ned knew, and Harley knew Ned knew, since they’d hung out together after the half-day, Harley had even started being nicer to Ned. 

Peter really didn’t see the big deal that their parents were dating, but he kept quiet like the older boy wanted. He wouldn’t avidly try to make Harley mad- that would be silly. Even if they were on better terms, Peter would search out an angry Harley. 

On the bright side of everything, Harley was a bit more cautious picking on Peter. And on Ned. He even tried to keep Flash away from them, and always lessened the blow by dragging his friend’s attention away before anything could get too bad. 

It was actually kind of nice that Harley steered clear of Peter and his friend, and even tried to keep Flash away from them. But as Harley had said in the arcade, that didn’t make them friends. Peter had to remind himself that they’d never really be friends. Harley didn’t want that. 

Peter wasn’t really sure how long his dad and Pepper had been dating. At least a couple months since Peter and Harley were introduced, and much more before that. His dad’s meeting (dates, really) had gone on for months and months. 

And, they’d even known each other even longer than that too. At least two years, Peter’s dad had explained when Peter had asked. Pepper was a client at his father’s garage for one, and she worked as a boss at Stark Industries. 

They’d known each other for practically forever. 

But, still, that didn’t make it any less weird that they now had sleepovers too. Peter and Harley were carted off to their bedrooms, and then Pepper and his dad would have sleepovers in his dad’s room. 

Peter wasn’t usually awake when they’d disappear into his room, but he knew that Pepper was sleeping in his dad’s room with him. 

And that was weird. They had a lot of sleepovers- either at Peter’s house, or Pepper’s penthouse while Aunt Nat, Steve, Bucky or Uncle Rhodey stayed with him. Sometimes Harley would sleepover too, in the spare bedroom beside Peter’s. 

And that was even weirder than their parents sleeping in the same room. 

It was weird having people other than his dad, or uncle Rhodey, or aunt Natasha in the kitchen in the morning. And it was weird to see Harley in his pajamas, or Pepper in hers. It was weird seeing his dad and Pepper cuddling on the couch after Peter had gone to bed, but snuck downstairs for a glass of water. 

But nothing really changed. Not really. They always went home. His dad was always around. 

Until... well, until he wasn’t. 

\---- 

“Sh, honey, it’s okay. You’ll be okay,” the nurse said calmly to the crying second grader. “I’m trying to call your daddy right now, you’re alright.” 

Peter held his arms a little closer to himself, reaching up with his second hand to try and wipe away his tears, but they just kept falling. He took a stuttered breath as he tried to calm down- wanting nothing more than his dad to come get him. 

“I know it hurts,” the nurse continued, office phone held up to her ear. 

Peter had been in gym class, which right off the bat, he didn’t like to be there. Not with his asthma. He simply wasn’t a gym kind of kid. 

They were going through a unit of gymnastics- practicing summersaults, balancing on beams and even pulling out mini trampolines to bounce around. 

Peter didn’t hate it- but he didn’t like it either. He had to take lots of breaks, or else he’d practically stop breathing and cough everywhere. 

He’d just been standing by Ned, in line for the balance beams. Talking quietly about Legos and maybe a sleepover or something. Until it was his turn to cross the inch-thick wooden beam in front of him. 

It was merely a misfortunate series of events; Peter losing his footing and falling to the left. He’d held his arm out to catch his fall and then-- 

He’s not sure what happened, but it was painful. It hurt so bad that he couldn’t even move his arm- pain shooting the length of his arm, and he instantly bursted into tears. He moved to instantly cradle his arm to his chest, only crying harder as it jostled whatever was hurting him. 

It was a blur for Peter, after that. Other kids started crying because he was, Ned was panicking because Peter was, and everything seemed to freeze as all eyes fell onto Peter, sat on the floor, clutching his arm. 

It didn’t take long for another teacher to come in, trying to quiet the other children as Peter’s PE teacher carefully helped him to his feet and lead the sobbing boy away from the gymnasium. Other teachers poked their heads out of their classrooms, frowning in sympathy to see the boy in pain. 

The nurse had been pretty frantic, getting Peter set up on one of the cots in the room, and handing him an ice-pack that was just too cold for him to want in his hands or on his arm, but she insisted. 

And there he sat, as the nurse called his dad two times. Peter knew his dad was in a meeting- he'd gotten all dressed up in his business suit that morning. Telling Peter that he’d not be at Stark Industries, instead a neighboring company for the meeting. 

Finally, on the third call attempt, his dad answered. Peter didn’t get to talk to his dad, but the nurse was, in a hushed voice as she kept glancing in Peter’s direction. 

He didn’t have the energy to beg to speak to his father, just slumped down a little more as tear fell from his cheeks. The ice pack was starting to numb the pain just a bit, but it still hurt so bad. 

When the nurse hung up, she continued to try and console him, but he just stared straight ahead, refusing to speak. He wanted his daddy. 

\---- 

Harley had heard from the grapevine that one of the younger kids had gotten hurt in third period- and if the screams and cries from the gym were anything to go by, it must’ve been quite a show. The younger kids always freaked out. 

He remembered when he was in second grade, and the whole class losing it when one of the girls got hit in the face with a basketball and broke her nose. It had been a mess. Both literally, and figuratively. 

It was lunchtime now- or lunch break, so Harley and his friends were stood by one of the doors, observing the playground and goofing around. 

Flash thankfully hadn’t caught sight of Peter or his little friend, so Harley didn’t have to worry about that. The less time they spent picking on Peter, the better it was when Harley and his mom had to hang out with Tony and Peter. 

He ws trying to be nicer to the kid. He really was. But sometimes Peter was a brat. The way he’d suck up to his dad, or even to Harley’s own mom, had the boy gritting his teeth. 

But still, he was trying. 

As hard as he tried though, occasionally, he still got terrified looks Peter would send in his direction and they were actually starting to hurt his feeling- just a tiny bit, anyways. 

He knew he hadn’t been overly mean to the boy. He’d never done anything more that call him names- he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look his mom in the eye again if he ever did anything more than that. Everything else was all Flash’s doing. 

But it worked out in the end. Harley himself would be the target if he suddenly became Peter’s friend- or worse, his step-brother. 

His schoolyard credit would take a hit with that, and that couldn’t happen. 

He’d worked so hard to weasel his way into the popular crowd. To be one of the boys. It wasn’t something he could just give up. Even if he was actually starting to like Peter. A bit. He was one of them now. 

Truthfully, he didn’t like picking on the younger kids. Couldn’t see why Flash did, but he wasn’t going to mess up his school yard credit for Peter just because his mom and Tony were dating. 

The boy laughed at something one of his friends did, then glanced towards the parking lot where a very familiar car was pulling into a visitor parking spot. Harley stared for a second, just in case it wasn’t who he thought it was- but, well, when she stepped out of the car, he’d raced to greet her. 

It was a bit embarrassing having his mom come to school- but he was incredibly curious as to why she was here. Did he do something bad? Wouldn’t he have been called to the office if that happened? What other reason could his mother be at the school? 

The boy slipped away from his friends, calling over his shoulder that he’d be back. No one really cared that he was leaving, and he didn’t expect them too as one of the boys pulled out a picture from a magazine he’d stolen from his dad. 

“Mom?” Harley asked when he reached the fence separating the schoolyard from the parking lot. Pepper looked up from putting her keys in her purse and walked towards her son, "what are you doing here?” 

“Hi baby,” Pepper smiled sadly at her son, “I’m here to pick Peter up, he got hurt earlier and Tony’s pretty far out still.” 

“He got hurt?” Harley’s face scrunched up. “What happened?” 

“I’m not too sure, Tony was pretty frantic on the phone. The nurse thinks he's broken something in his arm, so I’m going to take him to the hospital and sit with him until Tony gets there.” 

Harley stared for a second. He was actually a bit worried about Peter. But then he bristled at the idea that his mom was here for Peter. His mom. For Tony’s kid. 

“Why you?” he couldn’t help but ask. They were walking side by side towards the doors now, each on either side of the chain link fence. 

Pepper raised a confused eyebrow, “Tony’s still an hour away, and none of Peter’s aunts or uncles can make it. We can’t very well leave Peter here for at least another hour until Tony can get here, can we?” 

“Guess not,” Harley shook his head, deflating a little. 

“Now, do you think you can show me the way to the nurse’s office? I’m sure Peter’s probably scared and in pain, we don’t want to keep him waiting.” 

“I can,” Harley nodded, falling into step beside his mom. “I have to go in that door,” Harley gave a halfhearted point over his shoulder, “you go in the office door and I’ll meet you there, kay?” 

“You got it, Honey,” Pepper gave him another smile, continuing to walk forwards as Harley pulled away and went in the doors that were in the courtyard. He met up with his mom as promised, then led her to the nurse’s office. 

“Peter,” Pepper frowned when they walked in. Harley watched with furrowed eyebrows as Peter looked away from the wall, and glanced at Pepper. He didn’t look excited to see her at all, which had Harley curling his nose up. Why wasn’t Peter happy to see his mom? She’d come all this way for him, afterall. She could have just left him here until Tony could make it, but she hadn’t. 

“Where’s my daddy?” Peter asked into the room, eyes flicking from Pepper and back to the nurse. 

“He’s on his way, sweetheart,” Pepper said softly, stepping close to Peter. “He’s stuck in traffic, so I’m going to bring you to the hospital and wait with you until he can come, alright?” 

“I want my daddy,” the second grader whined, wiping tears from his cheeks and curling more into himself. 

Harley actually felt sorry for the kid. All his earlier anger that Peter wasn’t happy to see his mom drifted away as he took in Peter’s state. He’d be pretty pissed off if he was hurt and Tony showed up instead of his mom- as much as he liked Tony. 

“He’s coming,” Pepper promised. 

It was then, the nurse noticed Harley, halted in the doorway. “Can I help you?” Harley opened his mouth, then closed it, opening it once more and floundering at the sudden attention. 

“Oh, no, he’s mine,” Pepper hurried to Harley’s aid. “Peter is my boyfriend’s son. Harley’s just here to check on his friend, right, Bub?” 

“Yeah,” Harley breathed out, “wanted to make sure Pete was okay.” 

Peter looked towards Harley, biting his bottom lip and rushing to wipe tears away. Harley felt that familiar pull of sadness, seeing the anxiety in the boy’s eyes. Anxiety caused by his presence. 

He didn’t say anything though, instead stepped into the room just enough to close the door, then leaned back against it. He wanted to see what was happening, but wasn’t going to say anything. 

“You should take him to the ER or an Urgent Care center. I’m thinking he’s fractured something. He’ll need an x-ray,” Pepper listened diligently, “he’s already starting to bruise, so I recommend keeping the ice pack on-” then to Peter she frowned in sympathy, “-I know you don’t like it, but it’s helping-” the boy’s eyes fell to his lap, and he carefully pulled his knees up, “the faster his arm is aligned and casted, the better.” 

“Alright,” Pepper nodded. 

“We can get him into a makeshift sling for the car ride,” the nurse explained, moving to grab a piece of fabric from a drawer, “it’ll keep him supported and hold the ice pack in place so he doesn’t have too. I know it hurts, sweetheart.” 

Harley watched as the nurse tied Peter’s arm in a sling. He bit the inside of his cheek in order to keep his facial expression neutral. Peter was crying now, whimpering silently as the nurse worked. It seemed Peter, in his pain, forgot that Harley was in the room. Peter being upset like this almost made Harley want to cry. 

He didn’t like it one bit, but still, he said nothing. 

When Peter was all slinged up, the nurse carefully helped him to his feet. Peter inched off the cot in the room, slipping onto the floor and taking a breath. 

“Come on, honey, come with me,” Pepper called. Peter looked at her, then back to the nurse before slowly stepping up and taking Pepper’s outstretched hand into his non-injured hand. Peter kept his other arm snug against his chest, safely wrapped in the sling. 

“Should I come help?” Harley asked his mom when they were in the hallway, ready to go grab his stuff and help his mom. 

“No,” Pepper shook he head, pausing at the door, “you should stay here. We’ve got it, right sweetheart?” The woman looked down at the second grader, who glanced up with wide, watery eyes and gave a faint nod of his head. 

“Besides,” Pepper continued, “you need to keep learning, my smart boy. And, it’ll be boring for you. I don’t know how long we’ll be waiting to see someone.” 

“Alright,” Harley frowned. 

“Now, you might have to walk home after school, or maybe Flash’s mom can give you a lift, is that alright?” 

“Why?” Harley blinked in surprise. 

“I don’t know how long it will take Tony to get here, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it here to pick you up. Waiting rooms are usually slow, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave. I can’t leave Peter there by himself.” 

“Oh,” Harley deflated, “alright. I’ll see you at home then, right?” 

“Of course,” Pepper nodded ruffling her fingers through Harley’s hair with the hand that wasn’t holding Peter’s. “Be good, I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Harley huffed, glancing around to see if anyone saw. No one did. Lunch was over now. He was late to class. But that meant that no one would see his mom leading Peter out to her car. Perfect. 

He wasn’t sure how he’d pass that one off. But crisis averted, apparently. 

He’d gladly take a tardy in Science class than have to smooth talk his way out of why his mom was leading the target of Flash’s mayhem to Flash himself. 

“Head to class, please,” one of the office ladies called, barely looking up from her computer. And Harley took that as his que to duck out of the lobby and head to Science. Detention, here he comes. 

\---- 

Peter wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and go to sleep. And he would, had it not been for the agonizing pain in his arm that jolted through his whole body with each bump the car went over. He’d never been in Pepper’s car before, and never really been alone with her. His dad had always been by his side, or even Harley- but now neither were here. 

And Peter was hurt. 

Pepper didn’t try to talk to him, which Peter was thankful for. He didn’t want to talk, and he didn’t want to be here. He wanted his dad, even if he was mad at him. 

His dad had promised to always be there when he needed him- but here he was, needing his dad and his dad is nowhere in sight. 

Peter tried to focus on other things, instead of his arm. Like the fact that this was not his car seat. It had to be Harley’s because it wasn’t Peter’s and it was definitely used. It wasn’t new, Peter could tell. 

He tried to focus on the other cars out the window and the trees they drove by, but no amount of distraction took his attention away from his pain. Tears continued to stream, and he couldn’t help it. 

When they finally arrived at the hospital, Pepper helped him out of the car, and led him in by a steady hand between his shoulder blades. 

They had to wait. 

For what felt like forever. 

But the less Peter moved, the less his arm hurt, so he curled himself into a ball and cradled his arm to his chest. 

He helped Pepper fill out the paperwork, since daddy wasn’t there to do it, and Pepper didn’t know most of that stuff. Peter didn’t know a lot of it either, but he knew his full name, his phone number and his birth date. 

The ER wasn’t incredibly busy, but they still had to wait just over a half an hour to even be led back to an examination room. After moving again, Peter was once again crying. 

“Where’s daddy?” Peter begged once more, letting his tears fall freely as he laid back on a gurney. His arm didn’t hurt too much when he didn’t have to hold it up. It laid unused beside him on the bed. 

“Shh,” Pepper wiped away his tears, “soon, I promise. He’s finding a parking spot outside. He’ll be here really soon, Sweetheart.” 

Peter let his eyes drift shut as he waited for his dad to come in. He sniffled a couple times from all the crying, and continued to whimper. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, the door opened and Peter heard his dad’s voice. 

“Daddy,” the boy whimpered out, blinking his eyes open and looking towards the door. Tony came into view and instantly leaned down to be by Peter’s face, fingers tousling through the boy’s curls. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Bambino, Daddy’s here. You’re alright.” 

“’urts, Daddy,” Peter whimpered, inching closer to the edge of the bed to be closer to his father. He was still mad at his dad for not being with him, but right now he just wanted comfort. He could be mad later. 

“I know, baby, I know it hurts.” Tony mumbled to his boy, then to Pepper, “have they given him anything? For the pain?” 

“No,” she shook her head sadly, “he hasn’t been seen by anyone yet. We’re waiting for a doctor to come in.” 

Tony blew out a breath as he gave a slight nod, then moved to kneel down beside the bed instead of leaning over. His hand rested on Peter’s cheek, thumb running back and forth along his cheek, just below his eye. 

Tears continued to fall from Peter’s cheeks, but Tony brushed them away, whispering soft, comforting things to him. A lot of it was in Italian, which was only something his dad did when he was stressed out. 

It took forever for a doctor to come into the room, but when he did, he gave Peter some kind of medication that slowly took the pain away and made his head feel dizzy. Peter tried to make sense of everything being discussed, but, well, he was more focused on the lights above his head. 

He barely remembers being sat up and brought to get x-rays done, and riding on a wheelchair. He doesn’t remember his dad or Pepper being with him, and had he not been focused on the wall, Peter probably would’ve been scared by the huge x-ray machine. They put a heavy grey thing on him, and there was another doctor in a similar vest thing who was moving his arm around. 

It didn’t really hurt though. 

He was reunited with his dad and Pepper in a different room. His dad pulled him into his lap, and Peter just curled into the embrace and let his head rest against his dad. 

They sat for... Peter wasn’t sure how long. He’d let his eyes close, and then when he opened them again his dad, Pepper and the doctor were looking at cool pictures and talking a whole bunch. He let his eyes drift closed again. 

When Peter opened his eyes a second time, it was to cry out in pain as the doctor pushed on his arm. He moved to swat the man away with his other hand, but his dad held him steady. 

“Shh, you’re alright, Baby. He’s helping. I know it hurts, it’s okay.” Someone’s hand was in his hair, and it felt nice. He wasn’t sure if it was Pepper, or his dad—or even the doctor. “What colour do you want your cast to be, sweetheart? Hmm? Red, green? Maybe blue?” 

“Blooo’,” Peter slurred. He tried to focus on what the doctor was doing to his arm, but he really couldn’t. It looked cool though. He let his eyes close again, trusting his dad to take care of him. 

When Peter opened his eyes the third time, his head was a little clearer. He blinked tiredly to where Pepper was sitting on her phone. His dad wasn’t in the room, and Peter wondered if he’d actually showed up- or had it been a dream? 

He moved to sit up, but paused at the weight on his arm. A nice, bright blue cast was plastered up his forearm. He sat up again, aware of the extra weight this time. He pulled his hurt arm into his lap to finger over it carefully. 

“Oh, you’re up,” Pepper noticed, putting her phone down and standing up. “How does it feel, Bud? Does it hurt at all?” 

Peter shook his head. It didn’t hurt that much. Way less than before. “’s okay.” 

“That’s good,” Pepper’s fingers trailed through his hair. 

It was then, that the door opened again, and Peter’s dad walked in. Peter stared at the man for a second. He was mad at his dad. His dad wasn’t there when he needed him. His dad sent Pepper. 

“Oh, Bambi, how do you feel, honey?” 

“’m mad,” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. He wanted to cross his arms across his chest, but really couldn’t right now. His arm was still a bit numb and the cast was heavy. 

“You’re mad?” Tony asked in surprise. “What are you mad at?” 

"I’m mad you weren’t here!” Peter raised his good hand to point a shaky, accusatory finger at his dad. There was a stunned silence in the room. Peter glared at his dad, nose wrinkling in anger. 

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Pepper said softly, collecting her purse, “this seems like a private kind of thing... And I’ve got to get home to Harley. It’s almost dinnertime.” 

Pepper walked towards Peter, pushing his hair off his forehead, “I’m glad you’re alright, Sweetheart.” She then moved to Peter’s dad, who was stood frozen in the doorframe. She leaned over, whispering something to him, then pecking his lips. With one final wave into the room, the woman slipped out the door, leaving Peter and Tony alone. 

They sat in a silence for a couple minutes. Peter stared at the wall, eyes narrowed, and Tony watched his son helplessly. 

“Why are you mad at daddy?” Tony asked softly as he moved to sit on the bed beside Peter, “you know daddy was far away at meetings today, baby...” 

“You... you said you’d always be there,” Peter sniffled, “when, when I need you. But you weren’t!” The boy looked down at his lap, “you promised.” 

“I was on my way as soon as the school called to tell me you got hurt, Bambi.” Tony informed softly, then, as it seemed to click, the man asked lowly, “is this because Pepper came?” 

Peter’s silence was more than enough for the man to know he’d hit the nail on the head, “oh, honey, I’m sorry. I know she’s still kinda new, and you’re still getting used to her and Harley, but someone had to come for you.” The man carefully pulled Peter into his lap, and despite the boy still being mad, he curled into the man instantly, “you didn’t want to have to sit with the school nurse for hours while daddy was stuck in traffic, did you?” 

Peter shook his head slightly, sniffling against his dad’s button up white shirt. “Uncle Rhodey?” 

“He’s away with the military, remember? And auntie Nat was further away than I was. Steve and Bucky are on vacation... Pepper was the closest person to you, honey. And I wanted someone you knew with you, even if I couldn’t be there right away...” 

“It hurt, daddy,” Peter whimpered, “was scary...” 

“I know.” the man pressed his face into Peter’s curls, “what happened, Bambi? How did you get hurt?” 

“I fell,” the boy whispered, “off the beams in gym... An’ an’ I cried. An’ Ned cried. And I was so scared...” 

“I’ll bet,” the man frowned, “sounds scary, Honey.” 

“It was,” Peter nodded. “I wanna go home.” 

“We will,” Tony promised, “in a little while. The doctor just wants to come by and make sure you’re waking up from the medicine all right, and that your cast is okay. It’s okay, right?” 

“Mm,” Peter hummed, looking down at it. “It’s blue.” 

“That it is,” Tony laughed. “But we can colour on it at home, and maybe some of your friends from school can sign it when you go back?” 

“When I go back?” Peter tilted his head. 

“Yep,” Tony popped the ‘p’, “you an’ me are going to hang out together all-day Thursday and all-day Friday. The Auntie Nat’s going to be staying home with you on the weekend, and Uncle Rhodey’s gonna come visit, how’s that sound?” 

“No school?” 

“Nope.” Tony grinned, “gotta let your arm rest for a little bit. And you’ll be taking some medicine that might make you sleepy. But you’ll be back on your feet by Monday, I promise, Baby.” 

“Okay,” Peter nodded, curling a little into his dad. Tony was still in his business suit, but he’d stripped the jacket off and it was draped over the back of the chair Pepper had been sitting in. Peter reached out to take the tip of his dad’s tie into the fingers of his good hand and tousled with the fabric. 

“What do you say about a movie day tomorrow, huh, baby?” 

“Star Wars!” Peter gasped, “please, can we, Daddy?” 

“Anything you want, Bambi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter, I think, will be moving in together, since I'm running out of ideas to draw that out. I know these things take time, but well, there's only so much one can do in a work of fiction so things aren't completely boring. Still, feel free to comment any ideas you may have to delay the inevitable- or shoot me a message on Tumblr if that's how you roll. I'm @boww-tiez over there. 
> 
> Possible medical inaccuracies as well. I've never broken a bone, so, y'know. Correct me if I'm wrong about anything.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and sorry for a bit of a longer wait. Quarantine has left me completely unmotivated for anything (except for painting and reading fanfics). I hope all of you are well, and okay with the pandemic. Hopefully things have calmed down a little wherever you live. Wishing you all well!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos greatly appreciated! They make my day in this time of utter boredom. Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! So sorry for the wait!
> 
> I was working on a couple fics with one of my friends for his account (sadly not Marvel :c). Took up a bit more time than I thought they would, so sorry about that! 
> 
> I won't say too much, but if you could read the end notes, that would be greatly appreciated! Need some help with something, and I'd like to know your guys' opinions. Now, enjoy the chapter! <3

All the time, Peter got asked how he liked Pepper and Harley. By all his uncles, and his aunt. By Bucky and Steve, by Scott at the ice-cream shop. By Ned, and Cassie, and even MJ. Everyone asked. Everyone wanted to know how he was faring. 

And Peter didn’t know how to explain it. 

He liked them. 

He liked them perfectly well. 

Pepper was nice, and kind. She took care of him when his daddy wasn’t around, and she kept Harley in line. She was nice to his dad too, took care of him when he needed cuddles, and Peter’s own weren’t quite enough. 

Peter had never really had a mom, but she was basically one to him now. She acted just like Ned’s mom, and treated him just like she treated Harley. And... it was nice. 

His dad really liked her too, and she made him super happy. And Peter liked that his dad was happy. His dad deserved to be happy. 

And Harley was alright too, well, most of the time. School friends aside, the older boy was mostly nice to him. The teasing was more endearing than mean now. He never took anything too far anymore, always backed off when it was appropriate. 

Harley wasn’t always mean. He had nice moments, like when they’d play video games together, or sometimes work on homework. Harley was really smart. And when he wasn’t being a jerk, Peter liked spending time with him. 

But then there were the times when Flash would pick on him and Ned, and Harley wouldn’t do anything. Or sometimes, he’d say something mean, and all his friends would laugh, but Peter always picked up on just how uncomfortable the older boy was when muttering rude things to them- and it didn’t take a genius to see that. 

Peter didn’t understand why. Why Harley was so different in school than he was outside of school. 

Harley confused him so much- and when he mentioned it to his dad, his dad would just say that when he was Harley’s age, he’d be just as confusing, and that hadn’t helped. 

But overall, he liked them. Or, he liked them most of the time. Like when they weren’t in school. Harley was a perfectly nice guy when he was alone with Peter, or with their parents- or even just with his soccer friends, but as soon as anyone from school was involved- or heaven forbid Flash make an appearance, Harley did a complete one-eighty personality wise. 

It had lessened much more since his dad started dating Pepper, but Harley still had his moments of being a jerk. 

But yeah... Peter didn’t mind them. They all spent a lot of time together. Either at the house, or Pepper’s penthouse. They’d go to places like the zoo sometimes, or even bowling (which Peter despised even more now). 

They had sleepovers at each other’s houses now too- and not just Peter sleeping at Pepper’s, or Harley coming to his house. The adults came too... and that was weird. Ned’s mom never stayed the night when Ned did. And Peter’s dad always stayed home whenever Peter went to Ned’s house. 

Then, sometimes, the sleepovers were longer than a night- like when Pepper and Harley had come over for the long weekend. They’d come in with duffle bags, like they were going on vacation... but the vacation destination was just Peter’s house. 

And, even stranger, his dad and Pepper would share a bedroom. And that was weird. But acceptable. Ned slept in his bedroom whenever he came over for a sleepover. But Peter hadn’t known adults would share a room too. And Harley didn’t sleep with Peter in his room, so why did Pepper sleep with his dad in his room, when there were spare rooms? 

It was weird. This whole... the whole dating thing. Weird. 

And his dad was about to make it all weirder. 

\---- 

“Peter, honey,” Peter looked up from his homework, eyeing his dad. The man looked nervous. Very nervous, which spiked Peter’s anxiety. 

“What?” he drawled out, setting his pencil down carefully on the math worksheets. 

“I just wanted to... well, to run something by you, alright?” Tony gestured to the couch behind Peter, who was doing his homework kneeled at the coffee table. Peter blinked before moving to settle on the edge of the couch. Tony gave a small smile before sitting himself beside Peter, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. 

“Okay.” Peter shifted himself so he was now looking at his dad. Tony’s hands were fidgeting in his lap, tapping absently against the face of the watch on his left wrist. 

Peter waited quietly as his father seemed to be thinking of a way to bring up whatever he was thinking about. The boy was tempted to slip off the couch, pick up his pencil and continue with his homework, but then his dad looked towards him abruptly, “what do you think of Pepper?” 

“What do I think of Pepper?” Peter repeated softly, playing with his own fingers, “um, I don’t know. She’s cool. Nice. You like her.” The boy’s eyes drifted to his own hands, catching himself in fidgeting, and instead intertwining his fingers together in his lap. It was a little harder with the cast on his arm, but he managed to make it work. 

“I do,” the man raised an eyebrow, “but that wasn’t what I asked, Bambi. Do you like Pepper?” 

Peter thought for a second before nodding, “yeah, I do.” And that was true. Pepper was great. He did like her. She was nice, and she helped him when his dad couldn’t. She’d been super nice when he’d hurt his arm. 

He liked Pepper just fine... It was Harley that he wasn’t sure about still. As much as the guy was okay most of the time. Peter could still never get a good reading on him. He was the most confusing person Peter had ever known, in all his seven years. 

“And what about Harley?” 

Peter’s eyes studied his father’s curious face for a second, before looking back at his homework, leaning forward to pick up his pencil and fidget with it, “he’s fine.” 

Peter slipped the eraser side of the pencil into his cast to halfheartedly scratch an itch. 

“Just fine?” Tony asked softly, studying the boy. The man’s hand settled over Peter’s own, carefully sliding the pencil out. The man had expected this topic to be awkward, but not... this awkward. 

Peter shrugged, “he’s alright?” 

“Don’t sound too confident there, Pete,” Tony teased. Peter grinned at his dad, and moved to slide off the couch to focus on his homework again. He’d assumed their conversation was over, his dad’s hand on his chest stopped him before he could kneel on the floor again. “I’m going to need an actual answer here though, Kiddo.” 

“Oh, uh,” Peter stared down at his multiplication homework from his spot on the couch as he wiggled back into his spot, then looked up at his father, “I like him. He’s... he’s okay for a fifth grader. He’s, uh, he’s-he’s my friend...” Peter hesitated, “And we play games together... He’s uhm, he’s okay.” 

“That’s good,” Tony eyed Peter over, then let out a breath, “that’s good, Bud.” 

Peter nodded, watching his dad to see if they were finished or not, “I’m glad you like them, honey. Now, I want to... well, I want to ask you something.” 

“Ask what, daddy?” Peter had thought the conversation was over. Just another check in, like he’d done many times before. But, apparently not. 

“Well,” Tony pulled Peter into his lap, “I was wondering how you’d feel if... well, if maybe Pepper and Harley started sleeping here?” 

“More sleepovers?” Peter tilted his head, biting back his exasperation. “They already do sleep here, don’t they?” 

“Uh, well, that’s... that’s not exactly what I meant, Bud... I want to ask Pepper and Harley to move in here. How would you feel about that?” 

Peter bit his bottom lip. Staring straight ahead at the tv that was turned off. He didn’t even know how to think about that. 

“Move in?” Peter asked hesitantly. He didn’t mind them coming over- but they usually left after that. Spent one or two nights at their house and they went home to their own penthouse. They’d come over, then leave. But this... this would mean that they’d come over... come over and _stay_ over. 

“Well yeah,” Tony pressed his face into the back of Peter’s hair, afraid to look down at his kid, “you know, since we have all those extra bedrooms- and the house is pretty big for the two of us, isn’t it?” 

“We could get a dog?” Peter suggested hopefully, now turning to look back at his dad, “then it wouldn’t be just you’n’me anymore, right?” 

To Peter, that seemed the like most logical idea. If his dad was feeling lonely in the house, a dog could surely help. A lot more than a Harley would. Plus, the added security of a K9, and not to mention the loyal friendship accompanied with owning a dog. 

“That,” the man gave a breathy laugh, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist and pulling him close, “that’s a very nice idea, but I think it would be nicer if we had Pepper and Harley move in, eh? You like them? Remember all those times I have to be at work late? Pepper and Harley would be there with you then- you won’t even have to go to their penthouse, because they’ll be here with us already.” 

“What about uncle Rhodey?” Peter asked sadly, “Or aunt ‘tasha?” 

They were really the only two who ever slept in the guests. Bucky and Steve lived just down the street. Rhodey lived on the other side of town, and Natasha two hours away. So, when Peter did see them, they usually slept over, or, Natasha did at least. If uncle Rhodey was too tired to drive he’d spent the night. 

“You’ll still see them,” Tony promised, “just... how would you feel about it? I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, Kiddo. You can be honest with me. I know this is weird, baby. Anything you’re feeling it perfectly normal, got it?” 

“Yeah,” Peter tilted his head, eyes drifting to the ceiling in thought. He wasn’t sure about this. He didn’t know how much he liked the idea of Harley and Pepper always being here. Always being in the house. When would he get any time to himself? And his room, if his dad and Pepper shared... did that mean- 

“Do I have to share my room with Harley, like you an’ Pepper?” Peter asked sadly. 

“No,” Tony blinked, very surprised with Peter’s assumption, “oh, no, Bambi. You won’t... It’ll be just like now, when they sleepover, right? You’ll have your room, and the guest room Harley stays in will become his bedroom. You room will be your room, your space, just like always, okay?” 

“But you and Pepper will share?” 

“Yes,” Tony nodded, his chin knocking against the top of peter’s head lightly, “I like sharing my room with Pepper. It’s something adults like.” 

“I don’t like sharing my room,” Peter decided, even if he’d never shared his room before. 

“Well,” Tony laughed, “it’s a good thing you’re not an adult then, isn’t it?” Peter giggled at his father, though he was still deep in thought. This didn’t sound like a bad idea, per se, but it didn’t sound very appealing either. 

This was big. He wanted to consult with Ned, and see what his best friend thinks. He needed to think, but the hopeful look on his dad’s face had Peter already knowing what he was going to decide. 

It couldn’t be that bad to have more people living there, right? The house was plenty big, and Peter would still have his own bedroom as a safe space. Where Harley wouldn’t be allowed. A place to hide. 

“So?” Tony asked softly, running his finger up and down Peter’s side. Light enough that it didn’t tickle at all, but strong enough for the boy to feel though his t-shirt. 

“I... I like that idea, I think,” Peter said finally. He glanced back at his dad, seeing the man’s face light up just a little. It was the right answer, apparently. He slipped from his dad’s lap, siding right off the couch and into a kneel in front of his homework papers. 

His dad didn’t seem too bothered by his departure, leaning back against the couch momentarily, before sitting up straight again and edging towards the edge of the couch like he was about to stand up. 

“I’m so happy you’re okay with it, Bambino,” Tony leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the back of the boy’s head, “I promise, it’ll be fun. More people to talk to, and someone here with you when I’m at work- and someone around your own age to play with, it’ll be fun, honey.” 

“Yeah,” Peter agreed absently as he scribbled in an answer below one of his equations. “Sounds fun, Daddy.” 

“Great,” the man grinned, ruffling Peter’s hair, “you’ll tell me if things aren’t feeling right, right Petey?” 

“Mhm,” Peter hummed, barely listening to his father, and instead focused on the math in front of him. Or pretending to. Peter felt the vibrations of his dad standing up, then felt finger ruffle through his hair. Peter watched out of the corner of his eye as his dad left into the kitchen, most likely to start on dinner. 

Hopefully this turned out better than Peter thought it was gonna. 

\---- 

It was only one month later that Harley and Pepper moved into the house. The lease on the penthouse had run out, which was perfect timing- or, that’s what his dad had laughed as he carried boxes into the house. 

Harley and Pepper came with their furniture. It wasn’t much, considering their penthouse wasn’t huge, but it was still weird to see another couch and bed fought in through the front door. Most of their furniture was going into the basement as a ‘hang out’ area his dad had called it. For Peter and Harley when they had friends over. 

Harley thought it was a lot cooler than Peter. Peter simply furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over the sectional couch and tv stand. They’d even bought a mini fridge that Harley was thrilled by. And Peter’s dad had set up a shelf where he put all the game consoles that were in the house, (Harley had also been very happy about this). 

Again, Peter didn’t understand that either. 

Peter barely went to the basement. Most of the time even forgot it was there. Though, now it was different and he might actually go down there- or, at least show Ned once before retreating to his room to play Legos as they usually did. 

The main guest room had quickly been transformed into Harley’s bedroom. There were posters of cars, and his bed. It looked just like his room in the penthouse, but here in Peter’s house. There were shelves here though, all lined with model cars and Hot-Wheels cars. 

Collectables, Harley had snapped as he glared when Peter had asked why he didn’t play with his toy cars. How strange. 

Harley’s room had a small tv, which his Nintendo Switch was connected to, as well as two beanbag chairs in front of the television. 

His room was pretty cool, even Peter had to admit it. 

A lot of Peter’s house stayed the same. His bedroom, the living room. The bathrooms hadn’t been touched, and neither had the office or garage. Pepper moved some of her own files and stuff into the office, and the bathrooms got new towels and the addition of funny smelling shampoo and other weird things that Pepper brought along. 

Peter didn’t even want to hazard a guess on what some of those things were. 

His dad’s room had some new furniture, and even a new duvet (which Peter wasn’t sure about). Pots and pans, and dinner plates and utensils had been added to the kitchen, but Peter still preferred the ones they’d had before. 

It was different. 

Peter had been lucky that he hadn’t been roped into helping carry boxes into the house. His cast had some pros. Plus, Peter didn’t think it was fair he should have to help when nothing in the boxes belonged to him. 

His dad didn’t make him help unpack the boxes either, but he did have to stay with everyone else. A bit weird to Peter if he wasn’t actually helping, but his dad wouldn’t budge on the idea of Peter going to his room. 

When the last couple boxes were finally inside, he was finally dismissed. Peter had disappeared into his room pretty quickly after the last few boxes were brought in. He didn’t know why his dad wanted him to stick around, even if he was useless to help with his cast. But still, when Peter tried to leave, his dad gave him a look, which had him sighing and watching once more. 

He’d hidden away in the bedroom as soon as he was allowed, listening to people arranging furniture, thing bumping against walls as they were moved and people talking and laughing. 

They hadn’t needed to hire a moving agency, just rent a moving truck for the day. Bucky, Steve and uncle Rhodey all agreed to help, and together, with Harley, his dad and Pepper, the house was put together rather quickly. 

And then they were celebrating. Peter could hear a bottle of wine being opened, the ones his dad kept around because Pepper liked it. His dad had never had wine in the house before that. They had only a couple cool looking bottles of his dad’s ‘adult drink’ before. 

The ones his dad would pour a tiny bit into one of the nice crystal looking glasses after Peter was put to bed, or he’d drink with Peter’s uncles and aunt (also after Peter went to bed). 

Peter didn’t bother going to join. He had already hit his people quota for the day. Even if they were all technically family, and family friends (which basically made them family). 

So, he stayed hidden in his room, falling asleep listening to the voices of everyone downstairs. 

\---- 

Having Pepper and Harley move in wasn’t that much of a difference. Not really. Peter’s space was still Peter's space. He still hid away the same. Neither Pepper or Harley came in his room, which he was grateful for. 

It was weird having other people in the house though. Always having someone in the house. Peter’s chores were now split between him and Harley, and now their parents swapped out making meals. Pepper was a good cook. But his dad was better. Burnt bits and all. 

The laundry room now had two type of detergent- the one Peter’s dad liked, and the one Pepper liked. Peter could tell who washed which clothes, just by which fragrance the clothes had. Peter still didn’t like the smell of Pepper’s detergent, so if she washed anything of his, it went into the dirty laundry basket to be washed again with the right soap. 

Pepper must think he was super messy, but Peter could live with that. Peter’s dad never seemed to mind washing clean clothes again. 

Peter wasn’t sure how he liked having Harley living with him. It was weird having the boy here constantly. Harley was... a mix of nice, and rude, and mean. Weird. Older kids. Completely weird. 

That next Monday morning, the two got ready for school. It was Peter’s dad who made them breakfast- oatmeal- since Pepper had an early meeting and was already gone. 

Peter’s oatmeal was topped with diced apple, brown sugar and cinnamon, while Harley had just brown sugar. Peter’s dad knew how he liked his oatmeal. And it was delicious. 

He’d been woken up a bit earlier than usual, since his dad wanted him to show Harley the school bus routines and stuff, since Harley had always been driven, or walked to school. 

“I can’t believe people are going to know we live together now,” Harley groaned as they stood on the curb, “you’re definitely going to drag down my school yard credit.” 

“I don’t know what that means,” Peter scrunched his face up, “and no one will know.” 

“How so?” Harley raised an eyebrow. “Everyone on the bus will, when they get on, and we’re already on, doofus.” 

“They won’t,” Peter promised, rubbing his sleeve under his nose, ignoring the name, “I’m the first one on the bus-” 

“So?” 

“And the last off. How will anyone know?” Peter grinned at the older boy, “only the driver will know, and he’s cool. He won’t tell. No one will know we’re getting on and getting off at the same time, cause no one’s ever on with us.” 

“Fine,” Harley sighed. “Just don’t tell anyone. I don’t need to deal with this at school. This is a secret,” Harley spoke as the bus rounded the corner towards them. 

“I already told Ned,” Peter informed smugly. He waited patiently as the driver stopped, and opened the doors. “Plus, he’s already seen you at my house. He’s known all along anyways.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Harley shook his head, “you tell him everything. He doesn’t count.” With that, the boy stepped onto the bus, stalking to the back seats and flopping down. Peter shook his head, giving the driver a smile as he stepped up. 

“Good morning,” Peter greeted as usual, “that’s Harley. He lives with me now, but it’s a secret, alright?” 

“Sure, Peter,” the man shrugged, “I won’t tell.” 

“Thank you,” and with that, Peter strolled to his own seat. Sitting against the window and ignoring Harley entirely. 

Unsurprisingly, Peter didn’t see Harley or Flash at all that day. He assumed Harley was trying to put distance between them, less anyone find out that they live together now. Peter didn’t really think it was that much of a big deal. What did it matter if other kids knew? That wouldn’t affect anything at home- and it would probably be forgotten just as fast as people found out. 

It wasn’t exciting. Was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> So, I've been reading the comments, and I've seen some concerns (sorry for not replying to those comments, I completely forgot them! Plus it's just easier to address it to everyone now). Skip will come into play, I'm just not sure what I'm going to be doing about the tagging of... him? There will only be three chapters at most relating to the topic of Skip (I'm writing them currently, but still unsure when I'll post them), and nothing really too explicit because it'll more so be the focus of characters growing and angst. That said, I don't really want to add a non-con, or underage Archive Warning tag because it's not really the focus of the story. I will, of course, put warnings, because I know those might be triggering for some people, but idk about the formal warnings... So, any suggestions on that field?
> 
> Something else I've seen mentioned is of whether or not the bullying thing will ever come to light. It will! I've got a big shebang of angst, and family bonding lined up with that. It'll be after Skip though, a bit towards the end of the story. But it will come, I promise!
> 
> Anyways, as always comments appreciated! Lemme know how you'd like to see the tagging done, or if you have any prompts I can maybe squeeze into the fic. I'll try to get an update out much faster than this one came, but y'know, motivation is a fickle thing. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry for the wait. I've been completely unmotivated to do much of anything. Mother's day was a strain on my motivation just because I was so short on time. I did a painting for my mom, ran out of yellow paint (very vital in the picture), and guess which colour paint was practically nonexistent at every shop that was still open due to Covid? And then my brother forgot to get flowers, so that was fun.
> 
> Anywho, I hope everyone had an alright mothers day, and that you did something nice for your leading female role model- whether a mother, guardian or someone else important to you c: (I say seven days later, oops)
> 
> A bit of an argument between our favorite parenting duo, as well some more Bucky and Peter for the lovely commenter who officially requested more Bucky. You know who you are, and hopefully this was suffice!
> 
> Now, on with the chapter!

“I don’t like it...” Peter looked down uninterestedly at the bowl of.... what even _was_ this? 

“You haven’t even tried it,” Pepper narrowed her eyes, as Harley scooped another bite of his dinner into his mouth, eyeing Peter thoughtfully. “It’s a casserole, Peter. It’s just rice, chicken, green beans and a couple other things.” 

“I don’t like it.” Peter repeated, a bit more firmly this time. He poked absently at the glop of casserole in his bowl with his spoon, eyebrows furrowing. 

“It’s good, Pete,” Harley mumbled from Peter’s side, taking yet another bite of his meal. Peter watched him out of the corner of his eye, then stared down at his own bowl again. 

“Just try a little, I promise you’ll like it.” Pepper promised, taking a bite of her own food, then smiling at Peter like that would be enough to convince him to try it. “You can’t know you don’t like it, if you haven’t even tried it.” 

“Uhm... no thank you.” 

Pepper gave a frustrated sigh, “that’s what dinner is tonight, Peter.” 

Peter glared down at his bowl over his nose, then pushed the bowl back and away carefully. He set his spoon down on the table and slumped down in his seat. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry. He was. It had been a long day at school- and he hadn’t even had a chance to get an after school snack before disappearing upstairs to finish his pending Lego dinosaur creation. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t mind Pepper’s cooking, because he didn’t. She was a pretty good cook. Not up to par with his dad, in Peter’s opinion, but she made okay tasting food most of the time. 

That wasn’t the problem here. 

The problem was that Peter didn’t like rice at all, nor did he like green beans very much. And he certainly didn’t like his vegetable mixed into the dish like this. Everything was mixed into one pile of... dinner. How was Peter supposed to eat it when everything was in every bite? 

Yuck. 

Pepper huffed a breath, reaching across the table to slide Peter’s bowl back in front of him, where he glared down at it. He sat back in his chair, arms crossing across his chest. “I don’t want it.” 

“I don’t care,” Pepper returned, taking another bite of her own, “this is what dinner is tonight. I’m not making anything else, Peter.” 

Peter wished his father was here. His dad would stand up for him. He knew Peter didn’t like casserole. Peter had never liked this, or anything along the lines. He’d never liked his meal mixed together. He barely liked the different sides touching each other on his own plate. He liked the freedom of deciding what to eat first, and what to eat last. 

But he couldn’t do that with casserole. 

Even if he were to separate everything into their rightful piles, they’d all still be covered in the same sauce, or, whatever was covering everything. And that would take forever. 

But his dad wouldn’t be home until a bit later. He was at a meeting with uncle Rhodey, and a couple representatives from the military, who were talking details about what his dad was trying to do with the eco-friendly power sources he wanted to beta test at one of their facilities. 

Peter sat quietly; eyes focused on the table. He wasn’t going to eat the casserole, but he’d jump through Pepper’s hoops to keep everyone happy. And if that meant sitting at the table staring at a bowl of mush, he’d do it. 

It had only been just under a month since Pepper and Harley moved in. And there really hadn’t been much conflict between anyone. The household ran smoothly, and his dad and Pepper trading off on cooking, and cleaning was good. 

But some things still rubbed Peter the wrong way. And dinner when his dad wasn’t home was always a struggle. Pepper made weird food. Different food. Usually, Peter would try it at least. Choke down a couple bites to please her, but he just couldn’t with this. Not with the casserole. 

Pepper and Harley both finished. 

Harley got dismissed, bringing his own bowl into the kitchen and rinsing it in the sink before disappearing upstairs. Peter didn’t miss the fleeting look of amusement, as well as an edge of sympathy as he stepped up the stairs. 

Pepper finished a little after Harley, standing with her own empty bowl and walking into the kitchen. Peter grabbed his own to follow her, moving to slide off his chair, only to freeze when Pepper’s stern voice carried in from the kitchen: “No, Peter. You’re not leaving that table until at least _half_ of that casserole is gone, got it?” 

Peter blinked, slipping back into his chair and slowly setting the bowl on the table again. 

This was... new? His dad had never really made him stay at the table until he ate. Peter was allowed to leave the table, but not eat anything else except for what was on his plate, or in his bowl for the rest of the evening, until his food was gone. The meal would remain on the table until just after he went to bed, when his dad would finally throw it away. 

But he’d never been made to just... stare at his food? 

“I... really don’t like it, Pepper,” Peter whispered when Pepper returned to the table to collect the last of the meal, leaving Peter, his spoon, his cup of water and his bowl the only remaining things. 

“You haven’t tried it,” Pepper reminded stubbornly with a heavy sigh, “you can’t tell me you don’t like it if you haven’t tried it.” 

Peter didn’t think bringing up the fact he didn’t like two of three main ingredients the dish was made of would help his case. She seemed pretty set that he eat his food before leaving the table. 

And it didn’t seem entirely fair in Peter’s opinion. 

His dad would never do this. 

“I don’t like it,” Peter repeated once more. He stared unamused at the dish, before lifting his gaze to Pepper. 

“That’s all there is for dinner, Peter. You’ll get hungry enough to eat it eventually,” the woman tutted at him, grabbing her and Harley’s cups and the remaining cutlery before returning to the kitchen. 

It was weird sitting at the dining table by himself. With just his bowl on the table. He listened to Pepper in the kitchen, washing the dishes, despite them owning a dishwasher. He listened to her plastic wrapping the leftovers, as well as his dad’s plate of food. 

Maybe when he was home, he’d sit with Peter until bedtime. Or maybe he could talk Pepper out of this timeout thing that was happening. 

Peter really had no say, not when his dad said that Pepper was in charge when he wasn’t home. That they were slowly crawling towards co-parenting both kids, but still mainly took priority and responsibility of their own offspring. 

When Pepper was done in the kitchen, she went into the living room, turning the TV on and relaxing into the couch, only after sparing a glance in Peter’s direction. 

He couldn’t really see into the living room from his spot at the table, but he could hear. He really wasn’t interested in anything Pepper liked to watch, so it didn’t hold his attention very long. 

When left to his own thoughts, Peter played absently with his meal. He sighed as he settled his cheek in his fist- uncomfortable over the hardness of cast that would be coming off pretty soon. His other hand smooshed his spoon into the casserole, mushing the rice, chicken and green beans into an even more unappetizing paste. 

Peter made a face of disgust at the meal, letting the spoon clatter against the side of the bowl, then once again pushed his bowl away. It didn’t smell bad, but Peter still wasn’t willing to try it. He wasn’t very adventurous when it came to new foods. 

He liked what he knew. A select group of dishes that he’s grown accustomed to over the years. 

And this was not it. 

The boy folded his arms along the table. He let his chin drop onto the wood and allowed his eyes to flick across the visible designs on his cast. He had a couple signatures; his dad’s, Ned’s, Bucky, Steve, uncle Rhodey and a couple peers from school. Pepper had signed, and even Harley had doodled on it a little, but refused to sign it in case anyone from school took notice of it. 

The majority of the cast though, was filled with MJ’s doodles. She was really good at drawing, and her mom had just gotten her a new package of permanent markers. Peter didn’t really care what was on his cast, and let the girl go wild in drawing. 

A lot of her drawings were animals, which Peter thought were amazing. MJ was a great artist. 

Sadly though, Peter could only stare at his arm for so long before that too became boring. He kicked his feet below him, still not really able to touch the ground when sitting back in his chair like his dad preferred him to sit. 

He shook his head lightly, glasses slipping down his nose as his hair fell over his forehead. He sighed once more, letting his cheek fall on his cast-less forearm. He then took to tracing the grains of colour in the dining table. 

This was going to be a long night. 

\---- 

At some point, Peter must’ve dozed off. He stirred a bit when he heard Pepper stand up, checking on him in the dining room briefly before walking up the stairs to most likely check on Harley. 

Peter let his eyes shut again, pulling his arms close to himself and tucking his face in close to the bend of his elbows. His glasses were imprinting on his arms, and he was sure he’d have an indent on his nose, and possibly the side of his face from where they were pressing in. 

It was a bit uncomfortable, but Peter didn’t mind. He gave a tired sigh, shifting a bit more in his seat to relieve the ache in his tailbone from sitting in the same spot for so long. 

It couldn’t have been much time later that the door opened. Peter didn’t bother lifting his head, but he did blink his eyes open momentarily. They shut again, listening to the creaks coming from the area around the front door. 

He listened halfheartedly to footsteps, most likely his father’s, walking through the hallway and stopping abruptly in the dining room doorway. 

“Peter?” He asked skeptically. The boy gave a bit of a tired groan, then lifted his head to glance at his father. And by lifted his head, that really mean shifting so his chin was settled on his forearms instead of his cheek. 

“Hi, daddy,” Peter yawned, tilting his head to the side. 

“What’re you doing sleeping at the table, sweetheart?” His dad stepped into the room now, crouching beside Peter at the table. The boy shifted once more so he could look at his father. 

“’m not supposed to leave the table,” Peter informed dutifully, slowly waking up by the second. 

“Oh yeah?” Tony asked in surprise, hands flat in the table and his own cheek resting on the back of his hand to see his son’s face, “and why’s that, Bambi?” 

“Pepper said so,” Peter explained matter-of-factly. “Can’t leave until I eat, uh, eat half of the... of _that_ ,” Peter wrinkled his nose up at the bowl still sitting on the table. It was stone cold by now- a bowl of room temperature mush. 

Tony followed his son’s gaze, eyebrows furrowing at the bowl of what he could only assume was once some kind of casserole. Peter had obviously butchered it. He hadn’t done that in a while, but Tony had grown to know the look of the boy’s mutilated food leftovers over the years. 

“I didn’t like it, Daddy. It has _rice_ , and _green beans_. It’s all, all _mushed_ together!” The boy couldn’t help but exclaim. 

“I see that,” the man gave a little nod, hooking a finger over the edge of the bowl and dragging it towards them. “You don’t have to like things, Pete. Did you tell Pepper you didn’t like it?” 

“Uh huh,” Peter frowned, “but Pepper said I had to eat it, or I had to sit at the table until I got hungry enough to eat it...” 

“And you didn’t want to eat it,” the man supplied perfectly on point. He knew his kid. He knew him well. Peter’s odd quirks and the likes. 

Tony scooped Peter out of his chair, supporting him easily with one arm, then using the other to pick up the bowl of cold food. 

“It’s all touching,” Peter furrowed his eyebrows, “how’m I suppose’ to eat all the chicken and _then_ the green beans?” 

“I see, I see.” The man gave a nod as he carried Peter and the bowl to the kitchen. “How long have you been sitting at the table?” 

“I don’t know,” Peter shook his head, “but my butt hurts.” 

That startled a small laugh from his father. The man set the bowl on the counter, then lifted the hand that had been holding it to ruffle through Peter’s hair. 

“I’m sure it does,” Tony snorted a laugh, “now, why don’t you head upstairs, and I’ll talk to Pepper, alright?” 

“Won’t Pepper be mad?” Peter asked cautiously, “she said I have to stay at the table. I didn’t eat my dinner...” 

“Yeah, well, I say you can go play in your room, alright?” Tony sighed, setting Peter on the floor and playfully patting his behind. “She won’t be mad at you, I promise. Okay, Bambino?” 

“Okay, Daddy,” Peter gave a nod. 

Despite not thinking leaving the table was a good idea, Peter followed his father’s orders. He started up the stairs, only to pause when Pepper started coming down. 

She eyed him thoughtfully, but before she could speak, his dad’s voice broke the silence, “Pep, can you come’ere a sec? We need to talk.” 

“Coming,” she called back, stepping down passed Peter, fingers curling through his hair for a split second and then cradling the back of his head for just a moment as she passed by. Peter glanced back, then turned to climb up the stairs. 

Once in his bedroom, he closed his door behind himself, then sat with a sigh on his bed. He was still hungry- now more than ever that evening. Peter could barely hear the murmur of the adults speaking downstairs. Voices barely carrying through the floor, easily lost as he let his mind wonder. 

He flopped his upper body back against the bed, reaching blindly above himself to grasp the foot of his teddy bear and pull it to his chest. 

It was only a couple minutes later that Peter’s bedroom door opened. But surprisingly, it was Harley at the door, and not Pepper or his father. 

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the older boy beat him to it. 

“What did you say to mom and Tony?” Peter blinked, “they’re fighting.” 

“They are?” Peter jolted up. He strained to hear, and he could indeed hear the whispered shouts. “I... I don’t know,” Peter whispered. Harley eyed him for a second before turning out of the room. Peter sprung up to follow him, bear held tightly in his grip. 

He found Harley midway down the stairs, but still hidden to the two in the living room, hashing it out over something. Peter stepped slowly down the stairs, then sat right beside Harley so he could hear as well. 

“What was I supposed to do?” Pepper’s voice carried sharply. 

“I don’t know, not make him sit at the table for hours because he won’t eat?” Peter’s dad’s voice snapped back. “He was asleep at the table, Pepper. Like sound asleep. At the dining table. I think that would be a tell enough that he wasn’t going to eat?” 

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” the woman hissed, “I did what I would’ve done for Harley. He had to eat half of it. It’s not the end of the world, Tony.” 

“He said he didn’t like it,” the man growled. 

“Kids say that all the time,” the woman sniped back impatiently. “If I took Harley seriously every time he said he ‘didn’t like’ something, I’d be serving nothing but chicken nuggets, pizza and mac and cheese.” 

“Peter’s not like that,” Peter’s dad huffed in agitation, “honestly, you can’t compare them like that. They’re nothing alike- I thought you knew that?” 

“I do know that, and I’m _not_ comparing them,” Pepper snapped, “I’m just speaking from experience. In case you’ve forgotten- I am a parent too, Tony, and I do know how children work.” 

“Yes, I realize that,” Tony mumbled through gritted teeth, “but not all kids are the same- hell, no kid is the same as another. You can’t... just box Peter in like that. He needs to be able to eat at his own pace.” 

“This is not about pace.” Pepper gave an empty laugh. “He wasn’t going to eat. You know it, and I know it. And I’m not going to make a full second meal just for Peter because he refuses to eat what’s being served, Tony. He didn’t even _try_ it.” 

“He doesn’t have to try it if he doesn’t want to. Peter knows what he likes, and what he doesn’t like. He told you he didn’t like it, Pepper. Told you straight up. He hates rice. He hates green beans. He’s not going to like it, if he doesn’t like the main ingredients!” 

There was a tense moment of silence. Harley glanced back at Peter with an unreadable expression and Peter stared straight ahead with his face buried in his bear’s fur. 

“I just don’t see why you’re so upset about this? He was at the table for an hour-- an hour and a half tops. I wasn’t going to leave him there all night. I would never. He just needed to eat a little bit of it-” 

“You left him there for too long, Pepper. If he’s asleep, it’s been too long. I’m sorry for being mad about this, but I don’t appreciate walking in the door in the evening and seeing my kid asleep at the table like some sort of punishment because he wouldn’t eat.” Tony’s voice rose slightly, leaking a sarcastic tone, “Because he wouldn’t eat something he _knew_ he wouldn't like!” 

“I wasn’t going to let him leave the table without eating _something_ , Tony. And I’m certainly not making two meals because he won’t eat what’s in front of him. He would’ve eaten when he got hungry enough-” 

“You don’t get to decide that.” Tony stressed the words, “And, no, Pepper. He wouldn’t have eaten. You can’t force Peter into eating like that. It won’t work. _He_ doesn’t work like that. He would’ve sat there all evening without making a fuss. Because that’s just the kind of kid he is.” 

Harley sighed where he was sitting, leaning forwards so his arms were crossed along his knees, and his forehead resting on his forearms. 

“You really couldn’t have just taken a couple bites of the casserole?” Harley asked quietly, face still hidden. It wasn’t mean, or rude. It was an honest question. Harley was confused. 

“I-I didn’t like it,” Peter pleaded, squeezing his watery eyes shut. At this point, Peter decided he no longer wanted to listen to them argue about him. 

He stood silently, Harley barely stirring beside him, and walked silently down the rest of the stairs. His dad and Pepper were too busy arguing still to notice him slip past the doorway. 

Peter moved to the front door, carefully stepping into his rain-boots, which were the easiest piece of footwear he owned to put on. Then, he turned to knob on the door and slipped out without much thought. 

He didn’t want to be here. Not when they were fighting. Not when they were fighting about _him_. Peter didn’t like fighting. He didn’t like conflict. 

At first, he’d planned to just walk around the house to go to the backyard and hide in his play structure, or even just sit on the front step for a while, while things calmed down inside. But then he remembered Bucky and Steve living in a small house just at the end of the street. 

They didn’t mind when he came to visit? Would they mind now? 

He stepped off the step, bear still curled close to his chest. He hadn’t grabbed a jacket, and his rain-boots weren’t the best for insulating his toes in the chilled evening breeze. He shivered lightly, hugging his bear tighter. 

It was starting to get dark now, as he walked slowly along the sidewalk in the direction of Steve and Bucky’s house. Peter was happy they lived so close. That meant they were always coming over when they had the time, and he could even visit them sometimes after school. 

Usually though... he has everyone’s approval to visit. Steve and Bucky’s, as well as his dad saying he could go. But well, he couldn’t really ask Bucky and Steve right now, and his dad was a bit... preoccupied. 

It didn’t take too long for Peter to arrive at the smaller house at the end of the street. He’d been here loads, sometimes after school, or sometimes he’d come to hang out while his dad was busy with work, or called away from something Stark Industries related. 

He walked up the familiar pathway, noticing Steve’s motorcycle missing. But Bucky’s car was parked in the driveway. The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot before raising a small fist and knocking on the door. 

It took a second, and Peter was afraid maybe Steve and Bucky had both taken off on the motorcycle for half a second, before he heard movement inside the small house. Only seconds later, the door was pulled open. 

Bucky looked around in confusion for a split second, before his attention dropped to the seven-year-old huddled in a short-sleeve shirt, brightly coloured rain-boots and clutching a familiar worn teddy bear. 

“Peter?” the man asked in surprise, then looked up and glanced around once more to see if he could spot the boy’s chaperon- which, apparently there wasn’t one. 

“B-Bucky,” Peter didn’t even know why he was tearing up. He reached up to fist away a tear before it could fall down his cheek, then sniffled pathetically. 

The man looked momentarily shocked, but then he was dropping to a crouch and holding his arms open for Peter to fall into. The boy leaned forwards, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck easily and allowing the man to stand up with him. 

He snuggled into the man, burying his face in the fabric of Bucky’s t-shirt. Bucky’s arms circled around him, securing him. 

“What happened, Pete? Where’s your dad? Where’s Pepper?” Bucky rattled out as he turned swiftly back into the house, kicking the door closed as he spun. 

“At home,” Peter mumbled into the man’s shirt, squeezing his eyes shut. “Everybody’s at home.” 

“Alright, uh,” Bucky moved to set the boy on the couch, then absently threw the throw blanket off the back of the couch around the boy’s shoulder, “maybe I should be asking why you’re here instead of home with everyone else? At-” the man looked at the wall clock, frowning thoughtfully, “almost six o’clock at night?” 

“They’re fighting,” Peter whispered, letting his cheek fall onto his bear’s head. The fuzzy ears tickling his skin, “Daddy and Pepper. They’re fightin’ and it’s cuz of me.” 

“They’re fighting?” Bucky repeated, trying to understand the situation, “because of you?” 

“Uh-huh,” Peter hummed in despair. 

“What... what happened, kiddo?” Bucky moved to sit beside Peter, pulling the child into his side and throwing his arm around him. Peter let himself relax into Bucky’s grip, bottom lip wobbling. 

So, Peter explained. 

How Pepper had served the casserole for dinner- reminding the man just how much Peter didn’t like rice, or green beans. 

How Peter couldn’t force himself to try it, which had been the start of everything, he assumed. 

His stay at the dining room table after everyone else had finished. 

How he fell asleep accidentally. 

And then how his dad found him- “then-then, they started fightin’ and me’n’Harley listened. They were mad, a-and it was cause of me. Cause I wouldn’t eat, Bucky.” 

Peter really hadn’t meant to start a fight between his dad and Pepper. He wasn’t even sure how it had happened. He’d just told his dad exactly what happened, and now his dad was mad. Peter himself wasn’t even mad at Pepper- he was more confused if anything. 

How had everything gone so downhill, so fast? 

Everyone was mad, and Peter didn’t understand. 

“It’s not your fault, Buddy,” Bucky squeezed Peter lightly, sympathetically, “no one’s mad at you, I promise. It’s okay that you didn’t like what Pepper made for dinner.” 

“Why’re they fighting then?” Peter asked sadly from Bucky’s side. 

“They’re just... sorting things out. A disagreement of how to go about the situation. About how they take care of you and Harley, because it’s not the same, right? Pepper does things different- like making you stay at the table until you eat- and your dad handles the situation in his own way- like how he only lets you eat what’s left in your bowl for the evening, right?” 

“Yeah,” Peter shook his head, contradicting his own word. Peter hugged his bear closer, nuzzling against Bucky’s side. 

“So, you didn’t have dinner then? If you didn’t eat what Pepper made, yeah?” 

“No,” Peter whispered. Which reminded him how hungry he was. But he was also tired, because it was almost bedtime. 

“Perfect then,” Bucky grinned, “I haven’t had dinner yet either. Now me’n’you can make some grilled cheese, right? Steve will be home soon, and I’m sure he’d love one.” 

“Yeah!” Peter’s mood brightened a little, “extra cheesy, right?” 

“That is the only way to eat a grilled cheese, huh?” Bucky grinned, giving Peter’s shoulder a reassuring rub before he shooed the boy off the couch. “You go find the bread, butter and cheese, alright? I’m just going to call your dad so he knows you’re here and not out lost somewhere, alright?” 

“Alright,” Peter smiled. He slipped off the couch, throw blanket following him like a cape. The blanket dragged across the floor, but Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

The boy was here enough to know his way around the kitchen- so almost immediately, what would be worrying noises, had he not known a seven-year-old was in the kitchen, could be heard. 

With Peter clanging around in the kitchen pulling a chair to the counter to look in cupboards and raiding the fridge, Bucky pulled his phone out and clicked Tony’s contact. 

He answered after a couple rings, “Buck? What's up?” 

The man sounded stressed, but not a ‘missing a kid’ kind of stressed. So, he probably didn’t know Peter was gone. Not surprising, Bucky had only had Peter here with him for like fifteen minutes. 

“How, uh, how’s things going over there?” 

A hesitant pause from the other end of the phone. Bucky could almost imagine Tony pulling the phone from his ear to stare down at it in wonder. 

Then, finally- “You know, it’s a bit odd that you’d call asking something oddly specific like that right after Pepper and I finish hashing out parenting differences. What do you know, and why do you know it?” 

“Just what Peter told me,” Bucky said a bit defensively, a heavy sigh following his defensive tone. He lifted a hand to rub along his face, then brushed it back through his hair- pushing his hair from his face. 

Another pause on the other end of the phone, then: “...I’m sorry, what?” Tony asked in surprise, “when would Peter have-” 

“He’s here right now,” Bucky cut the man off, not bothering to beat around the bush. 

Another pause, then, "I'm sorry, _what?_ "

"Peter's-"

"No, I heard you," Tony floundered helplessly on the other end of the phone, "He's... He's there _now_?"

“He is,” Bucky confirmed, leaning back a bit to gaze into the kitchen where Peter was now digging a frying pan out of a cupboard. “And from that reaction, I’m going to assume you _didn’t_ know.” 

“Fuck,” Tony hissed, “of course I didn’t know. _Fuck_.” 

Another pause. Eerily quiet. Enough so that Bucky felt the need to speak, to fill the silence. 

“He’s fine... He’s cooling off a bit, you could say. He was a wreck when he arrived, I thought someone had died or something.” Bucky continued before Tony could mumble anything, “It was the arguing, I guess. He’s never liked fighting. Always gets bent out of shape whenever Steve and I bicker too- must've been shocking to him for you to be arguing with someone though.” 

“Fuck,” the man over the phone repeated for a third time, then, sounding miserable, he continued on, “I didn’t think they could hear us.” 

“Anyways,” Bucky drew his attention away from Tony and Pepper’s mistake of talking a tad too loud while the boys were home, “Steve’ll be home soon, and Peter and I were just going to make some grilled cheese for the three of us- unless you’d like him home? I can bring him back.” 

“No,” Tony whispered, sounding stressed, “let him calm down. This’ll be good. For him. He’s probably hungry anyways. I was going to bring him something, but I guess he wasn’t even home. _Fuck_.” A fourth time, more self-deprecating than anything. 

“It’s fine, Tony.” Bucky reminded, “he’s okay now. I explained it all- though you might want to tell him you weren’t fighting because of him as well. I don’t think it really sunk in when I told him.” 

“He thinks it’s his fault?” Tony’s voice was distant. 

“ _Thought_." Bucky stressed the word quickly, then was quick to mend his words because he knew Tony would take it hard, "And, just a bit. It’s still new, remember? All he knows is that the two of you argued right after he told you why he was still at the table. But! But, he’s getting better by the minute. Parents argue, Man- he's just not used to that yet. Besides, it wasn’t even really a fight, right?” 

“Domestic argument- just... different parenting,” Tony agreed quietly, “it’s still a bit tense, but we’re figuring it out. It’s not Peter’s fault though.” 

“I know,” Bucky sighed into the phone, blinking in the direction of the kitchen. 

“He’s alright though, right?” 

Bucky couldn’t help but smile, “sure is. He just needed a minute to figure things out. To wrap his head around you arguing with someone.” 

“I know,” Tony sighed, “thank you. For letting him stay. For calling before I found his empty room and lost my mind. Just... thanks.” 

“It’s no trouble. Steve and I love having him around- he's always welcome here,” Bucky promised, then jumped as something metal bounced off his kitchen floor. He tore the phone from his ear, smothering it against his chest to muffle him calling out to Peter, “hey, you brat, that better not have been a frying pan you’re throwing around in there!” 

He smiled at Peter’s giggles, and how the boy denied with a cute, “’s not, Bucky!”, called back through little laughs. That was possibly more worrying than a frying pan would’ve been. 

When he lifted the phone back to his ear, he could hear light chuckles from the other man. He sounded tired. “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control.” 

“As best I can,” Bucky returned playfully with his own laugh. 

“I’ll leave you too it then. Uhm, bring him back when he’s done eating?” 

“You got it, boss.” 

Bucky and Peter worked in sync, building grilled cheese for the three of them. Bucky even cut the crust off of Peter’s grilled cheese- which he usually didn’t get, but the man though the kid needed a bit of a pick-me-up. 

Steve walked in the door just as Peter flipped the last grilled cheese- his tongue poking out in concentration and focused solely on the sandwich on the end of the flipper. 

Steve eyed the scene in front of him, raising a curious eyebrow at Bucky. The brown-haired man shrugged halfheartedly, giving the blonde a small smile as he ruffled Peter’s hair. 

Concentration broken, Peter took notice of Steve, practically launching off the dining chair he’d been stood on (both men jolting in spot in case they needed to catch him (they didn’t)) to inform him they’d made dinner. 

And Steve, bless him, laughed heartily at the boy, bending a little to return the hug being administered around his legs. A short conversation between blue and green eyes was shared over Peter’s head- a silent question, followed by a quick look that promised a later explanation. 

Which was enough of an explanation for now, for Steve. Steve, who had barely batted an eyelash that he’d come home to a small child who didn’t belong to either of them with his husband. The three gathered around the kitchen table as the usually would whenever Peter was over, eating warm and gooey grilled cheese sandwiches. 

\---- 

Peter was quiet as Bucky walked him home. Steve had wanted to stay home and tidy up the kitchen a little. Peter held Bucky’s hand tightly in his own, the other clutching his bear close to his body. One of Steve’s jackets, far too big on Peter, was drowning the boy in warmth- the sleeves, one bunched up along Peter’s arm to hold Bucky’s hand, and the other inches away from dragging on the ground as he clutched his bear to his chest. 

“No one’s mad at you, Bud,” Bucky’s voice broke the silence. It was just after seven now. Just after Peter’s bedtime. Bucky’s thumb ran along the top of Peter’s own smaller hand lightly, “your dad’s just a bit upset you left without telling anyone. You know you’re not allowed to do that, right?” 

“I know,” Peter frowned, “I didn’t mean too...” Peter absently kicked a pebble along as his house came into view. “It just happened.” 

“That’s alright,” Bucky flashed a small smile down at him, “all that matters is you’re safe and sound.” 

Peter didn’t bother replying to that. 

The boy let Bucky lead him up the walkway to his own house, remaining silent as he pulled the door open without knocking. In the entryway, Peter kicked off his boots, then let the jacket that Steve lent to him slip off his shoulder and fall to the floor. 

Bucky bent over to pick it up, hanging it over his arm to be carried home. 

“We’re home,” Bucky called sarcastically into the house. Peter almost wished he could’ve just scampered off to his room without seeing his dad and Pepper, but Bucky stomped on that wish. 

It was only a second later that his dad rounded the corner coming from the living room, and the next thing Peter knew, he was locked in a hug he couldn’t help but melt into. He let his bear fall from his grip in order to hold onto his dad. 

“You’re grounded,” the man breathed against the boy’s shoulder. He didn’t sound angry though. “Never again, Peter. You can’t just leave like that, you hear me?” 

“I was just-” 

“I don’t care,” the man spoke over him, hugging just a little tighter, “I don’t care if you were just at Steve and Bucky’s house. Never again, got it? You tell someone.” 

“Okay, Daddy,” Peter relented, shutting his eyes and cuddling into his father’s embrace. 

“I should be getting home,” Bucky coughed behind Peter, “I left Steve with the dishes, so... I’ll have to make it up to him for that...” 

“Yeah, TMI there, Buck.” Tony snorted, as Bucky smirked widely. Tony pulled away from Peter enough to glance at his friend, “thanks again.” 

“No big deal,” Bucky waved him off, turning swiftly, “I’ll be off then. See you two around. Tell Pepper Steve and I said hi, alright?” 

“Alright,” Peter echoed back, smiling and giving Bucky a wave. Bucky returned the wave, then he was stepping out the door and closing it behind himself. Finally, Peter’s father released him, and the boy bent forwards to pick up his teddy bear, cuddling it close. 

“Come with me,” Tony held a hand out for Peter to take, “I think we need to have a little talk before bedtime now, yeah?” 

Peter hesitated for only a second before taking his father’s hand and following after him as he led him into the living room. Pepper was sitting on the couch, frowning thoughtfully at them as they entered. 

“Hey, honey,” Pepper greeted him, “come sit by me.” 

And Peter did. He walked slowly, sitting stiffly beside Pepper. It didn’t last long, as he relaxed into the couch only seconds later. His dad followed suit, sitting on Peter’s other side. The boy was sandwiched between the adults. 

“I should first apologize,” Pepper said softly, “making you sit at the table because you wouldn’t eat your dinner wasn’t the right way to handle the situation. You told me you didn’t like it, and I wasn’t listening to you. It was unfair.” 

Pepper paused for a second, studying Peter beside her before continuing swiftly, “I know Harley and I moving into your house was a big change for you, and I shouldn’t have been enforcing my own rules on you when your dad already has routines that you're used to. So, I’m sorry, Peter.” 

“’s okay, Pepper,” Peter replied instantly. And it was. The table thing wasn’t that bad. Honestly, Peter’s dad had been madder about it than Peter had. It was just different. And boring. 

“Now, we both need to apologize to you,” Tony started carefully, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him into his side. Pepper’s hand slipped down to Peter’s knee, squeezing lightly. Peter was now a bit confused. “We shouldn’t have been arguing like we were when you and Harley could hear us. It was between us, and we should’ve been more aware that you boys could be listening to us. It was nobody’s fault, okay, Bambi?” 

“It wasn’t me?” Peter asked skeptically, attention shifting from Pepper to his father. 

“No, Sweetie,” Pepper shook her head with a small smile, “it was about us. Sometimes adults just need to talk things through to understand them.” 

“Yeah,” Peter’s dad continued, “Pepper did something I wasn’t okay with- but she didn’t know I wasn’t okay with it. So, we talked it through, and now Pepper knows why I wasn’t okay with it. No one’s in trouble. It was a misunderstanding, okay, honey?” 

Peter thought it through for a second before giving a small nod, “okay, Daddy.” 

“We all need to work together, alright, Peter?” Pepper gave a small smile, pinching Peter’s cheek lightly. The boy smiled, “I don’t know what you like, or dislike, and your dad doesn’t know Harley’s. We’re learning though. We’ll probably argue again. But it’ll never be because of you, or Harley, okay?” 

“Okay,” Peter nuzzled into her hand. 

“Good,” Tony cleared his throat, “now that that’s cleared up. We need to talk about what you did today Peter.” 

Peter remained silent, eyes dropping from his father’s face guiltily. 

“I know you don’t like people fighting- and that’s alright. No one likes fighting, Pete. I know it was new for you- me arguing with Pepper. But you need to understand that you can’t just leave, Honey.” 

“I just went to Bucky and Steve’s house,” Peter mumbled, it didn’t sound too bad to him. He was always over there anyways. 

“It’s not where you went,” Pepper explained slowly, trying to explain an adult’s point of view to the seven-year-old, “it’s that you went without permission. We need to know where you are, Peter. What if you’d gotten hurt outside, or gotten lost? We wouldn’t have known.” 

“Yeah, we would still think you were safe up in your bedroom,” Tony continued, squeezing Peter tightly for a second, before easing his grip. “Even if you’re upset with us- you're not allowed to leave without telling someone, alright?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Peter shrugged. “I’ll tell someone now.” 

“Thank you,” Tony sighed in relief. Pepper smiled beside him, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Now, I think it’s just about bedtime for our little escape artist.” 

Peter giggled, standing and following his father up the stairs. At least no one was mad anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's coming right out of my own childhood- sorry to the rice lovers for forcing my own dislikes on Peter, but it was the first thing to come to mind. Ya’ll don’t even know how many nights me and white rice had a staring contest at the dining table lmao. Also, guys, I had a daycare babysitter when I was like four who made chicken noodle soup with legit whole peppercorns in it. I sat at her table for hours until my parents picked me up cause I wasn’t eating that.
> 
> I'm curious what your least favorite food is? Also, what did you family do if you didn't eat your food? I'm kinda a picky eater, but a bit less than Peter. Anyone relate to Pete here?
> 
> As always, comments appreciated! I love reading them, and seeing all the subs, bookmarks and kudos from those of you who are liking the story :) It means a lot!  
> 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another update! Sorry for the wait. This chapter's dedicated to jwriter819, who motivated me to finish this chapter and update by talking to me on Tumblr way earlier today (yesterday now?). You should check jwriter out, if you haven't already! Some real good fics over there! :D
> 
> Also, I'd like to thank everyone who commented on the previous chapter! It was a bit surprising to see so many comments! I love seeing what you guys have to say though, and it was awesome to be able to read through and see some of your guys' least favorite foods, as well as some stories attached, which were also lovely! I'm glad I'm not the only one who can rant about least favorite foods :P
> 
> Now, I'm not sure where this chapter's going, or whether it's decent or not, but, y'know- onwards with the chapter!

“Could one of you please take out the garbage?” 

Peter looked up from his book, glancing easily at Harley, who also looked up from his Nintendo Switch. They stared at each other for a second, studying the other as a silent debate of who had to stand up and take the trash out to the can. 

It was usually Peter’s dad’s job, just because he was usually stayed on top of it. That was probably his dad’s biggest pet peeve, when the garbage started to smell. But his dad had left for work earlier that morning and must’ve forgotten. 

Harley narrowed his eyes at Peter, obviously prompting the younger to do the chore, but Peter simply stared back. Then, making a bold move, the younger looked back down at his book, flipping the page and continuing off where he’d left off. 

“Boys?” Pepper called once more. 

Harley scoffed, setting his Switch on the table none to gently and standing to walk into the kitchen, but not before pushing Peter’s head as he walked by. Annoyance laced up Peter’s being, as he turned to scowl at the older boy, but Harley paid him no mind as he walked into the kitchen. 

Peter liked to think that this was a victory for him, a small one, but a victory nonetheless. Harley had had to take the trash out, and Peter could continue to read. And Pepper was happy, so it was a win for everyone- well, except Harley, maybe. 

Peter smiled down at his book, proud of himself for the small act of defiance. He listened halfheartedly to Pepper clanging pots and pans in the kitchen while she prepared dinner, which was some kind of breaded chicken, potato mash and mixed vegetables- at least from what he could remember when she’d briefed him about it earlier. 

Peter liked that Pepper told him what they were having for dinner earlier, so he could remind her of things he didn’t like, or wouldn’t eat. He hadn’t had to sit at the table like he had that night again. And Pepper would also make him something easy like a PB&J sandwich, or throw a couple chicken nuggets in the oven if she planned something everyone else but Peter would eat. 

It was the little things, but they made Peter tremendously happy. And Pepper didn’t even seem to mind anymore- not after his daddy had talked to her. 

Peter blinked down at his book when the door opened a second time; Harley’s return from the big trash-can outside. 

“There,” Peter heard Harley’s voice cut into the clanging in the kitchen, “was there anything else you needed, mum?” 

“No, thank you sweetheart,” Pepper’s bright voice replied. The clanging had stopped and Peter could imagine Pepper hugging Harley- which is something they did a lot. Pepper was kind of a touchy-feely person- mostly with Harley and Peter’s dad, and maybe with him a bit too, when he allowed it at least, “I know taking the trash out isn’t your chore, but it’s very nice of you to step up and do it for me.” 

“It was just the trash, mom,” Harley scoffed in his typical annoyance at his mother’s affection. Peter knew he loved it though. He always smiled when Pepper hugged him, or kissed his head or cheek. Harley was a good pretender. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Peter could hear animated smooching sounds coming from the kitchen, as well as Harley’s own halfhearted attempts to get away and a fond, disgusted tone voicing his annoyance. “Such a nice young man you’re turning into.” 

“Staph,” Harley’s voice groaned. There was a pause, like Harley was stood watching his mother cook for a second. “Hey, Mum, can I have a cookie?” 

There was another pause. 

Pepper had baked a batch of chocolate-chip cookies the day before- mostly to go in Peter and Harley’s lunches. Peter thought they were very good- his dad was never a baker, so he only really got homemade baked goods when he was at his grandmother’s house, or if he could talk Steve and Bucky into baking with him (that was always a good time). 

Peter waited for Pepper to reject Harley like she had to Peter when he’d asked earlier. Too close to dinner, Pepper had told him. And that had been mid-afternoon, it was much closer to dinner now. 

“...I suppose,” Peter’s attention shot up from his book in shock, “but only since you helped me with the garbage. Only one though, dinner will be soon, alright?” 

When Harley did return to the living room, a cookie hanging out of his mouth as he flopped back on the couch and grabbed his Switch console again. Catching Peter’s gaze out of the corner of his eye, the older boy gave Peter a small smirk. 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Harley munch on the cookie, while splitting his attention between holding and eating said cookie and playing his game. 

It no longer felt like much of a victory. Had... had Harley found a way to win that round? He did get a cookie. A cookie Peter had been denied earlier. 

\---- 

“That was a terrible goal,” Miles complained. “The frisbees are supposed to be goal posts, the ball can’t roll over a goal post, now can it?” 

“You’re just mad I scored a goal on you, _Goalie_ , when you couldn’t score a goal on me.” Harley gloated as he swiped the ball Miles had thrown back at him after retrieving between his feet. 

“No, I’m mad that this goal you’re counting went _through_ the goal post,” Miles huffed. Harley booted the ball, but this time Miles dove to stop it from passing through his goal markers. “Ha.” 

Peter watched from his spot in the play structure. He’d brought some Lego figures out in his coat pockets, and that’s how he was passing his time while the older boys practiced soccer. 

Miles had started coming over on occasion, when his mom and dad both had to work. They didn’t like leaving him home alone for long hours, though he was old enough they could. Peter didn’t mind Miles coming over. Miles was nice. 

He did, however mind when the older boys got to rowdy playing video games in the house and Peter’s dad kicked all three of them out of the house to burn off some energy outside- Peter hadn’t even been in the same room as them, yet he’d had to go outside too. 

As much as he liked being included by Harley and Miles, which Miles and Harley both tried to do when they were together, he simply didn’t want to be a part of any of the rowdy games they’d been playing all afternoon. 

They’d started off on the trampoline, playing an almost sort of dodge-ball game. More or less just trying to grab the balls and his the other in dangerous territory (heads, stomachs, crotches). Peter was just glad they were foam, or someone definitely would’ve gotten hurt. Then, the two played a game of crack-the-egg which didn’t look nearly as fun as it did when Peter played with Steve and Bucky. 

From that, they used the same foam baseballs they’d been using on the trampoline, to chase each other down and pelt the balls at one another. 

After they got board of that, they dug through the toy bin outside to search for the set of two frisbees Peter had never even opened to make a makeshift goal perimeter, to which Harley then snuck into the house to bring his soccer ball out. 

All the while, Peter hid himself in the playhouse portion of the play structure, where he could watch them play, but not be in harm’s way of getting a foam softball to the head. 

The lawn was littered with toys now- balls of all sorts, the jump-rope Cassie used when she came over for the day, as well as toys like water guns and sidewalk chalk that were barely ever touched. They’d basically all but dumped the bin out. 

“Boys,” Peter leaned forwards out the slide exit of the playhouse, but not sliding down. His dad had cracked the back door to speak to them, “It’s almost time to come in, think we can clean up the toys? It’s supposed to rain tonight, and I don’t want them to be ruined.” 

“Sure!” Harley called back, dropping to a kneel beside a group of scattered toys and picking them up. 

“Alright!” Miles beamed, collecting the two frisbees he was standing beside and grabbing the soccer ball from where it had settled against the fence. 

Peter stayed hidden, watching the other two clean up the yard. He hadn’t touched a single one of the toys- it didn’t seem particularly fair he had to clean them up as well. Up in the playhouse, Peter started pocketing his Lego people again, then slid down the slide when the older boys were just about finished cleaning the yard. 

Peter made his way into the house, where his dad gave him a frown, “did you help clean up the toys?” 

“No?” Peter tilted his head as he slipped off his sneakers. “I didn’t touch any of the toys, Daddy.” 

“I think you still should have helped Harley and Miles, Bud.” Tony sighed, “you were outside too, and it would’ve been done a lot faster if you’d pitched in. Plus, you’d be sad if they didn’t help you if it were the other way around, right?” 

“But I didn’t play with anything.” 

“Still,” Tony shook his head, helping Peter out of his coat- as well as reaching into the pocket of said coat and digging out the Lego figures. Peter didn’t know how his dad knew they were in there, but he always did. He set them in Peter’s hand, then hung the article up, “just remember for next time, that it’s nice to help other people clean up, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

Peter moved into the kitchen, pulling himself into one of the island chairs, where he deposited his handful of Lego figures. He worked on setting them all up, so they were standing along the edge of the counter. 

The door opened again, and the happy talking of Miles and Harley filled the front room and kitchen. Miles was telling some kind of story about one of his school friends, to which Harley was laughing. 

“Thank you, boys, for cleaning up,” Peter’s dad praised the older two, as Peter listened to both of them slipping their shoes and jackets off. 

“We made the mess,” Miles informed, “so we needed to tidy up.” 

“Yeah,” Harley agreed. “Didn’t take too long, anyways.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I did most of the work,” Miles teased, to which Harley scoffed. “I’m a cleaner-upper extraordinaire.” 

“No way, dude. I did most of it, while you watched.” 

“No way!” Miles’ laugher filled the rooms. 

“You both did a good job outside,” Peter’s dad chuckled. “Now maybe you could tidy up Harley’s room too, and bring your snack bowls down before Miles’ mom gets here to pick him up?” 

“We’re on it!” Miles chirped, which was followed by a stomping of him running up the stairs. 

“We’ll be back in a sec,” Harley informed, following his friend up the stairs. Harley made just as much noise going up as Miles did. Peter looked at his father, who moved to the kitchen sink and started running the water to wipe down the counter with the damp cloth in his hand. 

The older boys returned downstairs with their snack boys, then sat themselves on the remaining two island chairs to talk with Peter’s dad. Peter couldn’t help but feel his dad was still upset with him for not helping clean up. 

But Peter hadn’t made the mess... 

\---- 

Peter couldn’t help but feel threatened by how much both his dad and Pepper seemed to like Harley. Was Harley the favorite? Even his dad’s favorite? He certainly seemed like less of a hassle to Peter. 

It wasn’t just those two incidents either- there were a couple more. 

Like Harley helping his dad tidy the garage while Peter napped upstairs. Peter had had a headache, so his dad had basically sent him to bed for a bit. When Peter had woken up and went to find them, they were conversing lightly and playfully as his dad swept and Harley held the dustpan to the floor. 

Then the one where Peter refused to eat more than two bites of his dinner. Not because he didn’t like it, or anything- simply because he was mad that his dad hadn’t let him bring his book to the table. Harley had finished off everything on his plate, including the broccoli that he wasn't a fan of. Pepper had dismissed Peter when both she and his dad were done eating. 

They’d all had ice-cream that night as a dessert before bed, but Peter didn’t get any because he didn’t eat his dinner. Harley had grinned at him as he scooped a bite of Oreo ice-cream into his mouth. 

Even one time where Peter hadn’t wanted to take a bath, but Harley had jumped right into the shower before bed. Peter had ended up taking a bath after his dad persuaded him with the promise of watching a movie before bed. But still, Harley had complied easily, while Peter had protested. 

Both his dad and Pepper had been pleased with Harley. Happy with him. While Peter had really been nothing but a nuisance. It seemed that whenever Peter was being even a little bit difficult, Harley was being an angel of a child. 

The new love of Harley had even extended to Bucky- while his dad was busy in his office at the garage, and Pepper was busy at Stark Industries. 

So what if Harley knew the names of all the stupid tools that his dad and Bucky used to fix the stupid cars. So what if he fetched them when Bucky needed them while Bucky was under the vehicle. Peter could’ve learned them to, he just didn’t want to. 

Peter had no interest in cars- maybe that’s why Harley was suddenly everyone’s favorite. 

\---- 

It was just that next day at school that Peter stared down at his pair of busted glasses. Since getting them, his vision had adjusted perfectly- unfortunately, now that they were broken, he could notice the blurriness more than when he’d never had the glasses to begin with. 

It was a difference. He didn’t know how he’d managed to see at all without his glasses. 

It had been an accident in gym class (which Peter was really starting to dislike, by the way). The teacher had introduced basketball, though most of the class already knew of the sport. By watching the older grades at recess, or possibly by playing with older siblings or even from those small kids hoops that were shorter than his dad. 

The teacher had told Peter’s partner to pass it to him, and she had. His only job was to catch the ball. And he did... just... with his face, instead of his hands. The ball bounced off the floor with force, as she'd thrown it with all her might and landed square against the bridge of Peter’s nose. 

Peter had ended up on the floor from the impact of the ball hurtling towards him, and his glasses had been broken in the process. He sat for a second, processing the events. He didn’t cry though. The teacher helped him up, telling him he was alright, while the girl apologized over and over again- looking closer to crying than Peter was. 

Peter couldn’t help but feel dread as he stared at the two pieces of glasses he was holding. They’d snapped in the middle, where they sat on the bridge of his nose. 

Despite being only a little hurt from the incident, Peter had been ushered off to the nurse’s office once again. This time to ice his face, instead of wait to be taken to the hospital- or, he hoped, a least. He didn’t want to go to the hospital again- and this hurt a bunch less than his arm had. 

The teacher sent Ned with him, instead of going them self. Peter didn’t mind. 

“Oh no,” the nurse cooed when she saw them arrive, “what’s happened this time, honey?” 

“I got hit by a basketball,” Peter shrugged. He shuffled closer as the nurse gestured him in. 

“In the face!” Ned exclaimed, worrying more than Peter was, just like usual. 

The nurse tutted to herself as she ushered the two into an adjoining and helped Peter up onto the cot in the room while Ned slumped nervously into the chair on the other side of the room. 

The nurse then proceeded to prod at Peter’s face, squeezing around his cheeks, in the corner of his eyes right by his nose and the general area of his nose- which hurt more than the basketball had. When she was done poking at him, she wiped a tissue under his nose, dabbing away a bit of blood that had dried on the walk to the nurse’s office. It hadn’t bled a lot, thankfully. That would’ve freaked Ned out. 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” the nurse told him with a comforting smile, “it will probably bruise though. Hang on, I’ll go grab you an ice-pack, and then I’ll call your daddy, alright?” 

“Okay,” Peter bowed his head. 

“And you,” she looked towards Ned who was worrying himself in the corner, “did you want to stay with your buddy until his parent can come get him?” 

“Can I?” Ned asked hopefully. They both knew the nurse had a bit of a soft spot for the younger kids, and Peter and Ned were two the kids who visited her the most. Peter between injuries sustained in gym, or even due to asthma related issues, and Ned because he tended to get sick a lot and he was always the one to accompany Peter whenever he was on the way. 

“Of course,” the nurse grinned, “it’s always better to have a friend around when you’re hurt, huh, Peter?” 

Peter gave a small upward tilt of his mouth, which seemed to be enough to please the nurse, “now, I’ll be right back. You two stay put.” 

And then she left into another room leading off the main room of the office. 

“Why do you look so sad?” Ned asked carefully once the nurse was gone, “does it hurt lots?” 

“No,” Peter sighed, fiddling with the pieces of glasses in his hands, “I broke my glasses.” 

“Oh,” Ned frowned, or from what Peter could see. He was further away than the nurse had been. “Sad cause you can’t see then.” 

“No,” Peter snorted a sad laugh, sticking the pieces of glasses together and holding them where they’d split so they looked repaired. He knew it wouldn’t fix them, but he was still disappointed that they broke apart again when he moved his fingers. 

“I’m confused then,” Ned informed as he tilted his head. “Why’re you sad then if it doesn’t really hurt and it’s not cuz’ you can’t see anymore?” 

“I can see still, Ned,” Peter insisted with a small smile, “it’s just a bit... blurry.” 

“You know what I mean,” Ned crossed his arms across his chest. And yeah, Peter did know what he meant. Even though he couldn’t really see his friend, he was sure Ned was scowling like he usually did when Peter played dumb for the sake of annoying his friend. 

“They’re gonna be mad,” Peter eventually said, voice soft in case the nurse could hear them, “I know they will be.” 

“Who?” Ned’s frame came closer, standing from his chair and walking towards the cot. Peter watched in amusement as his friend slid up onto the cot beside him. They were sitting facing each other now, and Peter could see Ned’s face clearer now. “Your dad and Pepper? Why? It was an accident? Betty didn’t mean to...” 

“I know,” Peter frowned thoughtfully. He knew Betty hadn’t meant to cause him any harm. It was an unfortunate event, just like when he’d broken his arm. And Peter didn’t blame Betty either. “They’ll just... they’ll be mad at me.” 

“Why?” Ned asked in surprise. 

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged, “I don’t think I’ve been good recently- not like Harley, at least.” 

It was at that moment that the nurse returned, holding a blue gel ice pack, which she was wrapping in a couple sheets of paper towel. 

“Here you are, Sweetheart.” She held the cold item to the bridge of Peter’s nose, waiting patiently for him to reach of up and take over holding it. “I know it’s cold, but it will help with the swelling and bruising a lot, okay?” 

“’kay,” Peter managed a little smile as she pulled her own hand away. The smile crinkled his nose up painfully. It didn’t hurt a lot, but it did a bit. And his head was starting to ache now. 

“Good boy,” the nurse chuckled with a smile, “you’ll be good as new in no time, I’m sure of it. Now, I’m going to go into the other room and ring your dad. Keep that to your nose.” 

Peter nodded, sniffling lightly. She turned swiftly, walking out of the room with the cots and into the once with the computer and telephone, leaving the two in the silence of the room. Peter looked at the closed door, sniffling again at the uncomfortable feeling of his nose. 

“What do you mean not good like Harley?” 

Peter looked at his friend over the bulging of the icepack on his face. “Huh?” 

“You said not like Harley, what’s that mean?” 

“Oh,” Peter thought for a second, of how to explain it to Ned, “just... Harley’s been doin’ things better than me, I think. Does less things wrong, and stuff.” 

“That’s not true,” Ned nearly shouted, and Peter could practically feel his friend pouting. 

“It kinda is,” Peter laughed. “Harley does more chores, and he know more about cars, and he helps daddy and Pepper around the house more than me-” 

“Stop,” Ned frowned. “You do a lot of stuff not wrong too.” 

“Not as much as Harley,” Peter said quietly, “he’s their favorite, I think.” 

“That’s not a nice thing to think. And I don’t think that’s true.” Ned whispered; tone determined. “And if it is, which it’s _not_ , then... then you’re _my_ favorite.” 

Peter stared at his best friend in shock for a second, then a grin spread across his face as he tilted his head to study the frown on his friend’s face, “Thanks, Ned... You’re my favorite too.” 

Ned opened his mouth to speak, but the nurse returned once more before he could. Peter’s friend deflated where he sat, pouting that he didn’t get to reply. 

“Your Daddy’s on his way to pick you, alright?” 

Peter nodded, adjusting the icepack on his nose. It was already starting to melt, and the squish of the goo inside the bag felt weird against his nose. He slipped the paper towel off because it was getting moist from the frost on the icepack. 

“And you,” she looked at Ned with a sad glance, “I know I said you could wait until his dad arrived, but you need to get back to class, your next class will be starting soon, alright?” 

“Okay,” Ned sighed sullenly. He leaned forwards to hug Peter before slipping off the cot. “Feel better, Peter,” he muttered as his feet hit the ground. 

“Bye, Ned,” Peter frowned after his friend stepped towards the nurse, who was waiting to lead him from the room. 

“Bye.” Ned waved, and then his friend was gone. The nurse walked Ned to the door before returning to Peter and urging him to lie back for a while until his dad arrived. 

Peter blinked his eyes closed, and let his thoughts wonder. His thumb idly stroked along the glasses on one of the sides of his wrecked glasses. 

When he opened his eyes again, he could hear the nurse talking with someone. And after his head cleared a bit, he recognized the voice as his father’s. It made Peter really happy that his dad had come to pick him up, as much as he was thankful Pepper had come when he’d broken his arm. 

Peter waited for them to come in, which didn’t take longer than a few seconds. 

“Hi, daddy,” Peter said when his saw his dad walk in. His voice was nasally now, and his nose was really cold. He let his hand still clutching the icepack to his nose drop to his side as he sat up. His head was a bit sore now. 

“Hi, Bambi,” Tony gave his son a smile as he kneeled by the bed, “how’re you feeling?” 

Peter shrugged as his dad took his chin between his fingers to inspect the injury. 

“So, basketball isn’t your sport then, huh, Kiddo?” 

“Daddy,” Peter groaned, scrunching his nose up. It hurt a bit. Peter’s dad gave a sad laugh, the released his son’s face. 

“You can take him home now,” the nurse informed from the doorway, “I’ve excused him from all his classes.” 

“Thank you,” Tony nodded as he helped Peter off the cot. He grabbed the melted icepack from Peter’s hand and passed it to the nurse for refreezing. Then he grabbed Peter’s hand, swiping his thumb along the top of Peter’s smaller hand. 

“As we spoke about earlier, if he starts bleeding heavily, has lasting pain, or if his nose looks crooked when the swelling goes down, take him to the doctors. I’m quite sure it’s not broken, but better safe than sorry.” 

“Will do,” Peter's dad smiled, the friendly smile he always used when he had to talk with people at Stark Industries he didn’t particularly like. Peter giggled a bit from his spot at his dad’s side, drawing neither’s attention. The nurse was quite chatty, Peter knew. Good for kids, but overly chatty people always annoyed his dad. 

Plus, Peter was pretty sure his dad had broken his nose before- or uncle Rhodey told him he had, and the nurse was just preaching what his dad already knew. “I’ll ice it two to three times a day, for roughly twenty-minutes until the swelling goes down. I should get him home now.” 

“Right,” the nurse smiled, “of course. Have a good afternoon, Mister Stark. And you as well, Peter. Feel better.” 

“Thank you,” Peter waved goodbye to her as his dad pulled him along carefully by his hand. They walked a couple steps before his dad seemed to notice Peter was missing his glasses, to which he swiftly picked the boy up and carried him. 

They breezed past the front desk, who Peter was sure already knew he’d been injured, as all the office ladies told him to feel better soon as they passed by and left the school. 

Peter’s dad was quick to get him in the car, and then get himself in, and then they were leaving the parking lot. It was quiet in the car. Peter fiddled with his glasses pieces, frowning thoughtfully. 

His dad was quiet too, and Peter wasn't sure if it was because he was sad, or because he was mad. Peter had busted his glasses after all. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Peter said quietly from the backseat. They were almost home now. 

“For what, Bambino?” Tony’s eyes flickered to his son in the rear-view mirror. 

“I broke my glasses,” Peter sighed sadly. 

“Honey, it was an accident,” Tony frowned in return, confused by the apology, “accidents happen. And you’ve got the spare ones in the bathroom, remember?” 

“I know,” Peter nodded, “but I broke these ones...” 

“Peter,” Tony gave a small laugh, “you really can’t be sorry for getting hurt. You’re not allowed to be sorry for it, alright? You got hit with a basketball, Sweetheart, you don’t need to be sorry about your glasses. I’m just happy you’re alright- er... mostly alright.” 

“But Harley never broke his glasses,” Peter whined, “just me.” 

“Pete, Harley doesn’t even really have glasses. His were just pretend and he only wears them sometimes, remember?” 

Peter thought back to when Harley lied to his friends about his own need for glasses the day Peter had gotten his own glasses. From that day on, Harley most of the time told his friends he had contacts on- and only sometimes wore his fake glasses. 

“He never broke his,” Peter insisted. “Just me.” 

Tony pulled the car into the driveway, then turned in his seat to study his son. 

“What’s this about, huh? What’s Harley got to do with you getting hurt and breaking your glasses?” 

“Nothin',” Peter sighed, unbuckling himself and shifting out of his car seat to stand on the carpeted floor of the car. The boy looked down at his glasses clutched in his hand for a second, then set them on the center console beside his dad and raised his attention to his father, “I did bad, and broke ‘em. But Harley’ll do good, I know.” 

Peter pushed his car door open and slid to the ground. He paused for a second, biting his bottom lip before sighing, “he _is_ your favorite.” Peter stepped back and pushed his car door shut. Peter walked quickly up the walkway relying solely on the different colours between the green of the grass, and the grey of the walkway to lead him to the door. 

Peter barely made it to the front steps when he was picked up from under the arms and hoisted into someone’s arms, and then his dad’s stern sounding voice huffed from just behind him, “you wait just a second.” 

Peter paused, just hanging. His dad’s grip switched so he was holding Peter’s body to his own by an arm around his waist, Peter flopping over slightly as his dad marched up the steps and opened the door. His dad said nothing for a second, walking his way into the office, where Peter was sure his dad had been before getting the call from the school. 

His dad set him on the edge of the desk, then pointed a finger at him with a warning of ‘stay’ before turning on his heel and leaving the office. 

Peter stared at the door way for a second, then slumped back a little. He picked up the pen that was laying on the desk beside him and fidgeted with it while he waited. He really wasn’t sure what was happening. 

When his dad stepped back into the room, he had an ice-pack with a tea towel wrapped around it in his hand. He sat himself in the rolling office chair, then scooted the chair so it was directly in front of Peter. Peter’s feet hung between his father’s knees, and they were almost nose to nose, with Peter being a bit taller due to desk leverage. 

The man reached up to settle the chilled ice-pack against his son’s nose, which just like with the nurse, Peter reached up to hold in spot. 

“Now,” the man drawled with narrow eyes as he dropped his hands to his knees and leaned forwards, “you wanna run that by me again?” 

“Run what?” Peter asked dumbly, despite knowing exactly what his father was talking about. He shifted a little on the chair, adjusting how the icepack sat on his nose. 

“Don’t do that now, Peter. You know exactly what I’m talking about. What’s this about Harley being my favorite, huh?” 

Peter remained silent. 

“Where’d you get a crazy idea like that?” Tony asked, then continued when Peter still didn’t speak, “what’s going through that smart little head of yours? Where’s this coming from?” 

“Harley’s everyone’s favorite,” Peter whispered, eyes downcast, “he’s... he’s the good boy.” 

“And why’s that?” 

“He does his chores,” Peter looked up sharply, frowning thoughtfully, “an’ he tidy’s up, an’ he baths when he’s suppose’ too, and, and he eats _all_ his dinner, and he helps you clean up in the garage, and he knows all the bits and tools about cars, and-” 

“Hey,” Tony interrupted, “wait a second, Bambi. None of that means he’s my favorite, alright?” 

“It does,” Peter insists stubbornly, “Harley’s everyone’s favorite. He’s better at everything.” 

“No, he’s not,” Tony replied, just as stubborn as his boy. Peter had to get it from somewhere. “None of the things you said make Harley any better than you, baby. Harley has his bad day, just like you do.” 

“Not like me,” Peter whispered. 

“No, honey, stop. You have to remember Harley’s older than you. He’s three years older than you. You’re still little, you almost get a free pass with some things. Like when you don’t want to take a bath, or when you don’t finish your dinner. I’m sure Harley was just like you when he was seven.” 

“No,” Peter huffed. 

“Yes,” Tony insisted. He pulled Peter down off the edge of the desk and into his lap, where he wrapped his arms around the boy. “Listen to me. You’re my baby, Peter. You’re my son. You’re fifty percent me. Half my DNA, and I’ve known you for seven whole years now, right?” 

Peter gave a tiny nod against his father’s chest, so Tony continued on. 

“I like Harley a lot- I love him like I love Pepper, you know? It’s a different love from how I love you right now. But, remember, I love you most of all. You’re my number one, Peter. You’ll always be my priority- and dare I say,” Tony paused dramatically, “my favorite?” 

Peter giggled at the dramatics, snuggling into his father and letting the hand holding the icepack drop into his lap, “there’s my favorite smile. Now, just don’t tell anyone I picked favorites, alright?” 

“Alright, Daddy,” Peter giggled into his dad’s chest. He felt his father’s chest rumble with his own laughter as his arms tightened around Peter. 

“You and Harley both have your good and less than good qualities. Just like every other kid on the planet, got it?” 

“Got it.” 

“I don’t want to hear any more talk about Harley being any better than you are, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

“Good, because you’re both amazing kids, and it makes me sad to see you upset. Pepper and I love both of you. You’re our kids, but I’ll always love you just a smidge more, and I’m sure Pepper will love Harley just a bit more, right? Since they’ve been together since he was born, just like you’n’me. We have a special bond with our kid, okay?” 

“But you love both of us. Just... not the _exact_ same.” 

“Right,” Tony grinned, “see, aren’t you a clever boy.” 

Peter accidentally brushed his nose against his father’s chest and winced. When Peter pulled back, Tony moved to cup his face between his hands, then rubbed his thumbs along the underside of Peter's eyes. He studied the swell of Peter's injury, then forced a little smile. 

“Now that that’s settled, let’s get you some medicine to help with your nose. Then we put on our PJ’s and we can go lay in my bed and watch a movie, alright?” 

“’kay,” Peter smiled as his dad set him on his feet, then stood up to follow him out of the office. 

“I love you, Bambino.” 

“I love _you_ , Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Peter in this fic is basically that one kid in every class that's accident prone. But, I mean, Peter Parker gives off the vibe of being a bit clumsy, even with his spider powers. Still, I'm sorry for bullying little Peter, I swear I love him! Now, this chapter came to be by two prompts I received in the comments but mashed together- y'know to hit two birds with one stone. The first being Peter being jealous, or upset (can't quite remember which) and thinking that Harley's the favorite child, and the second being that Peter broke his glasses and had to face the consequences. I mashed them together, and changed them a bit to work with the chapter, but I hope it's still what you two commenters were looking for!
> 
> The last question was a success, so I'll ask another relevant one to the chapter! Feel free not to answer, of course- I'm just curious. What's the most memorable injury you've ever gotten at school? Mine was in middle school where we were playing some weird made-up basketball game. I jumped to catch the ball, at the same time it fell off the rim of the net. It collided directly with the tip of my middle finger- me going towards it, and it coming towards me and legit dislocated my middle finger. It hurt an awful lot, but at the same time I got to sit out in PE, and it was middle finger, so, y'know. 
> 
> Again, I'm simply curious- I know a lot of people I went to school with liked to talk about their school battle wounds and compete about who suffered the greatest.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed, and thanks so much for reading, and I'll see you next update! <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> So sorry for the late update! Now, I'll be house sitting for my grandparents periodically throughout the summer. They don't have WiFi in the house, unfortunately, so if updates are wonky-er than they usually are, that's why! So please bear with me. Also, big thank you to everyone who commented last chapter! I loved reading all your injury related stories (yikes some were brutal) also, gosh, PE class is a killer.
> 
> Anywho! Read on to some socially-anxious Peter and fluffiness with a twist!

Peter had never liked when his dad would drag him to Stark Industries events. It didn’t happen very often, thankfully, but without a doubt, at least once a year, Peter would be carted off to SI for an event. 

It was really just an overly extravagant, informal bring your kids (family) to work day. But his dad usually went all out with food, and activities and little science things for kids to learn. His dad always liked when kids were interested in science, liked to get young minds into science and stuff. 

He even gifted scholarships and other school related things to deserving kids, but that was beside the point. Peter knew these were really just a way to introduce his staff’s families to what they did at work. 

And every single year, Peter was forced to attend some extravagant party disguised as a take your kid to work day, hosted in the Stark Industries building, where he’d follow his dad around like a lost puppy and have to smile his way through conversing with the people who worked with his dad, and the employees at Stark Industries. 

It’s not that he didn't not like the people working at his father’s company- he liked them just fine. They were all kind, and pleasant when he was roped into conversations. They listened to him ramble nervously about animals he likes, and they always asked questions about his school and his classes. 

There were a bunch of other kids around too, but Peter never played with any of them. Children brought by their parents to see the building, and meet other employees. There were activities set up for kids- involving science, and small non-dangerous tasks for them to complete and by extension, learn bits and pieces about what their parents do. Little things to get kids interested in science and fun ways to teach them of eco-friendliness. 

Which Stark Industries really focused on. 

Plus, there were snacks and foods catered- something to please everyone. This could possibly the only upside of the whole event. Peter was sure his dad specifically picked foods he’d eat from the caterer’s menu, along with what was popular and classic party foods. 

Every time Peter attended one of these events, he never wanted to go far. He didn’t want to let his dad out of his sight. He kept a close eye on his father at all time, often not even pulling his hand away from the edge of his dad’s suit jacket. 

He just really didn’t like it. 

He didn’t like being in a room of majority adults. 

He didn’t like not knowing any of the kids playing around him. At least twenty other kids usually, various ages all spread around and observing everything their parents do and the activities set up for them. 

He didn’t like just watching them. He wasn’t going to talk to them- what if they were mean to him like Flash was? He wasn’t sure he could handle meeting someone else like Flash at one of his dad’s company’s events. 

He didn’t like when his dad would seat him at a table with a plate of snacks, so he could talk business with other adults. Peter wanted to be with his dad, not sitting at a table by himself, or with random people. 

He didn’t like being known as Peter Stark—how people instantly knew his name whenever he happened to meet anyone around an event. Everyone knew his father, and by default, him as well. 

It was stressful. 

Way more stressful than school was. 

But every year was the same thing. 

Peter supposed this was his dad’s way of trying to socialize him with people outside of his family and his school, but it never really worked. Not when Peter barely stepped away from his dad the whole couple hours they were there. 

He just... didn’t like it. Couldn’t manage to find any reasons to like it, or enjoy himself. It just wasn’t fun. Playing Legos was fun. Playing on the trampoline was fun. Playing Mario Kart on Harley’s Nintendo Switch was fun. 

Stupid parties like this weren’t fun. 

But this year, when the dreaded event rolled along, it wasn’t just Peter and his dad going, no, Harley and Pepper were also coming along. Peter really shouldn’t have been surprised when his dad brought up them all going to the event on the following day at Saturday’s breakfast. 

Pepper was the CEO of Stark Industries, and Harley her kid. Peter wouldn’t even be surprised if they were at every party since his dad hired Pepper, and Peter just never looked up from his shoes long enough to notice. She had been his father’s employee for quite a while, and Harley had probably been forced to accompany her too. 

So, it probably wasn’t going to be much different than every other year. 

It was weird to think about walking in with more people than just his father. It had always just been Peter and his dad going. But not anymore. Now it was Peter, his dad, Pepper and Harley all going. 

The four of them had loaded into his dad’s car. The four of them got out at Stark Industries, and the four of them all walked in together. 

It was only when they walked into the room that was already starting to fill with people, that Peter got that usual pit of anxiousness in his stomach. He gripped tighter at his dad’s hand as Harley instantly split from the group to check out one of the activities being set up. 

Peter watched as the older boy joined the small gathering of other kids, frowning at how easily he talked to them and was accepted into the crowd. 

Peter could never to that. There were so many other kids around. He could never just tuck himself into a crowd and blend in. He could never just... start up a conversation. How Harley could, Peter had no idea. It was almost amazing. But then again, his dad and Pepper could both do it flawlessly as well. 

If it hadn’t been for Ned starting up a conversation with him, Peter was sure he’d have no friends at all. It was just so hard to talk to new people. To start a conversation with someone he didn’t know. 

Peter let go of his dad’s hand, only to tuck his hands into the front pocket of the red sweatshirt he was wearing. Peter had refused to get dressed up this year. Refused to wear anything more than a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Maybe out of spite at having to come, or simply to get his voice heard, even if it was just something like the clothes he was wearing. 

He’d told his dad he hadn’t wanted to go, even suggested that he go to Steve and Bucky’s house instead of the event, but that had proved to be a failure. Because here he was. It was the same argument between him and his father every year, and just like always, Peter was overpowered. 

And, well, Steve and Bucky weren’t even home... 

Despite his earlier anger and unwillingness to put on anything fancy, the boy was now regretting it. 

His dad hadn’t put up much of a fight after the initial suggestion of a button up, slacks and a matching vest. He’d done nothing more than eye Peter’s outfit choice with a half-smile before ushering him into the car, where Pepper and Harley were waiting. 

Now, Peter shrunk into his sweatshirt, suddenly feeling out of place walking around with his dad and Pepper. Both his father and Pepper were dressed in business casual, their everyday work clothes basically; they were the heads of the building, and the hosts of the event, so they needed to look presentable. And Harley was even dressed up a little, in dark jeans and a button up shirt. 

Peter stood out now. He stood out in his bright red sweatshirt. He didn’t look the same as his dad and Pepper. He was different. And even if he took his sweater off, he’d still have a t-shirt underneath. That would stand out as well. 

Peter followed a few paces behind his dad and Pepper, ducking further into his sweater whenever anyone got close to them. His dad and Pepper talked easily with anyone to talk to them, and Peter frowned each time. 

Could everyone just start up conversation like that? Was he different? Peter could barely manage to talk to the kids he’d been in the same class with for years now. He talked strictly with Ned, and MJ. Cassie sometimes when she came over, and Harley and Miles since they were always at the house now too. But besides that? 

No one else seemed to have much trouble talking with new people. 

And that only made Peter more nervous. 

He stepped closer, grabbing a fistful of his father’s suit jacket, to which his dad glanced down at him, only now seeming to realize they’d been followed. Pepper’s attention dropped to him too, and she eyed him with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I thought you went with Harley to check out some of the activities?” his dad asked in surprise, pausing in his footsteps in order to turn to Peter and crouch down to his level. 

“No,” Peter shook his head, “I don’t wanna. Wanna stay with you.” 

“Don’t you want to play the games and stuff?” Pepper asked, leaning forwards to be closer to him as well. “I can take you to go find Harley? The three of us can check things out?” 

“No,” Peter frowned. Then as an afterthought add, “thank you.” 

Peter pretended not to notice the glance his father and Pepper shared before his dad was standing up again and taking Peter’s hand into his own. Pepper stood up again too, hand ruffling Peter’s hair under the hood. 

“Well, I guess the three of us can go find somewhere to sit, eh?” 

There were a few tables set up towards the back of the room, close enough that parents could watch their children partake in the activities, but far enough that they were out of the way. Each table sat anywhere from six to eight people, depending on how closely people sat together. 

This just meant that even if Peter, Harley, his dad and Pepper all sat at a table, two to four more people could join them. Peter didn’t like that thought very much, but there wasn’t much he could do at seven years old. 

Peter let himself he ushered along to a table towards the back of the event. It was towards the back, but easy to spot for people needing to talk to his dad and Pepper. 

Peter sat carefully, perching on the edge of the chair, crossing his arms on the surface of the table and letting his chin fall onto the edge of the table. The toes of his shoes brushed along the floor, but he could only reach since he was on the edge of the chair. And he could barely reach. 

His dad sat beside him, and Pepper on the other side of his dad. 

They were talking again, voices soft, but Peter wasn’t interested enough to tune in. It was probably business talk anyways. And that’s no fun. Instead Peter let his attention gaze around the room. 

This year there weren’t that many activities for kids to do. A couple small experiments that volunteers from the company did for the kid. Some smaller models of things like the Arc Reactor that powered the building. 

There were a couple dingy experiments too, ones Peter’s class had covered in their science class like baking soda and vinegar— but also a rather cool looking one about different types of eco-friendly electricity that Peter wouldn’t mind checking out... but he wouldn’t. 

He’d glanced at it when they’d walked in, it catching his eye as he watched Harley join the group of other kids. He didn’t want to distract his dad from the other adults though, and he didn’t want to go alone, so he hadn’t said anything. 

It was more geared towards the older kids, Peter thought, if by the group of middle schoolers gathered around. That didn’t make him any less curious though. If baking soda and vinegar was cool, that experiment would be awesome. 

As expected, as Peter as silently at the table, his father was pulled away. It really didn’t take long at all for someone to pull his father away into conversation. His dad stood from the table and followed to meet the other’s wife, with a parting ruffle of Peter’s hair and a promise to return quickly. 

Pepper was soon to follow, being stolen away by a young woman who looked just a couple years older than Harley. Pepper had been happy to jump into conversation of her climb up the latter of the Stark Industries workplace, the young girl listening diligently, absorbing every word Pepper said. 

Which left Peter alone at the table. Like every year. And probably every year to come. 

Peter sat by himself for a while; he dragged his finger along the table, cheek pressed against his hand, which was flattened on the tabletop. Two more people had joined his father’s conversation, and Pepper was now on the other side of the room, still speaking with the young woman, and who Peter thinks is the girl’s mom. 

Peter sighed, blinking his eyes shut. 

“You know, every year coming to this stupid party,” Peter looked up at the voice, only to see Harley slipping into the chair beside him. His feet could touch the ground, Peter noted, “and every year, there’s this one weird kid sitting alone at a table. I really should’ve guessed it was you, honestly.” 

“Hey,” Peter frowned, shifting so he could see Harley better, “’m not weird, you’re weird.” 

“Says the weird one,” Harley teased. He sat back in his chair for a second, seemingly locating their parents, “so they just ditched you?” 

“Who?” Peter asked with a frown. He knew who Harley was talking about. He was obviously talking about Pepper and his Dad. Peter shifted to look away again, but so he could still watch Harley out of the corner of his eye. 

“Don’t be stupid, Stupid.” Harley rolled his eyes, as he snarked his reply. His relaxed posture was the only tell that the other wasn’t really annoyed with him. “My mom and your dad, obviously. Who else would I be talkin’ about?” 

Peter shrugged, sighing. He settled his head back down on the table, frowning thoughtfully. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Harley gave a light laugh. “Figures they would. Once a talker, always a talker. And I guess Tony’s no different than my mom, huh?” 

“It’s not a yes.” Peter returned, disregarding everything else Harley said and focusing on the ditching part, “people needed to talk to ‘em. They _are_ the bosses.” 

“Well yeah,” It was Harley’s turn to shrug, “but we got here like half an hour ago. You’ve been sitting here for at least twenty minutes. That’s as good as ditched, Pete.” 

Peter was silent for a moment before he sighed again, deep and heavy, “yeah, I know.” 

“If you know, why’re you just moping around here? Surely there’s something around here that’ll interest you.” Harley glanced around the room again, this time breezing over all the activities and experiments for something to distract Peter. He stopped in at everything when they’d arrived before coming to the table for Peter. 

When he looked back at the other, he couldn’t help but follow Peter’s gaze. 

Peter’s eyes glanced to the setup of the eco-friendly power sources table, before he looked back down at the table, frowning. “No, there’s not.” 

“Uh huh,” Harley raised an eyebrow. “Nothing to do with that one over there?” He caught Peter‘s eyes and gestured halfheartedly to the booth Peter had been eyeing. “It was pretty cool when I checked it out earlier. I wouldn’t mind going again, y’know?” 

“Was it cool?” Peter perked up, looking at Harley with wide, curious eyes. His expression fell just as fast, when he remembered the general type of people who were at the table, “it’s for the big kids though.” 

“Who says?” Harley asked in surprise. “There’s no age limits here, Peter. You don’t have to understand it to know it’s cool. I don’t know a lot of this stuff, but it’s all cool, right?” 

Peter shrugged again, playing with the edge of the plasticky table cloth protecting the table below. “There’s only older kids there... I... I’m not—I don’t wanna to go.” 

“You can’t sit here the whole time. If your dad can talk like my mom can, you’ll be here until the end of the day waiting for them. Does your dad talk to other adults forever too?” 

Peter wanted to say no. To defend his dad’s honor—but his dad could talk. Peter thinks it’s just an adult thing, being able to prattle on about just about anything for practically forever. 

“...sometimes,” Peter decided. He managed a small smile through his nerves at Harley’s grin. 

“You're a victim of grocery store chats too then, huh?” Peter couldn’t help it. He laughed at that, because he was. When his dad happened to run into anyone he knew in the shops, he could talk forever. “We’re all victims,” Harley decided with a solemn, yet playful look, it broke into a smile as soon as Peter’s own smile brightened as well. 

He was just going with it since it was cheering Peter up a bit. 

Not that he cared that the younger boy was upset, or... or that he’d been sitting at the table alone for a long time-- 

Well, maybe he cared a bit. Just a bit though. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve had to stand around staring at lettuce silently while my mom talks to someone she knows for like forty-five minutes in the grocery store?” 

It made Harley feel good to see Peter smiling like he was. The younger had been upset for most of the day, and had been in a fowl mood when they got up and ready for the day. 

It had been one argument after the next for Peter that morning. He and his dad arguing about food, and clothes, and then over the fact that Peter couldn’t go to Steve and Bucky’s house instead of this event. 

So, it was nice to see that smile again. 

Once again, not that he really cared or anything. 

“Now,” Harley stood, then reached over to pull Peter’s chair out from where it was tucked under the table, “c’mon. We’re going to check out that experiment.” 

Peter hesitated. For too long, in Harley’s opinion. The younger was looking between Harley, the eco-friendly electricity booth and his dad, before he finally scooted off the chair. 

“There’re little models and everything.” Harley carried on, if only to persuade Peter into more confidence about the booth. “Ever wanted to hold a wind turbine in your hand?” 

“No,” Peter huffed a surprised laugh as he slipped onto the floor. “Never.” 

“You’re missing out then,” Harley laughed as well. “You can now, you’ll never be the kid who never held the wind turbine now.” 

Harley turned to walk towards the booth, with Peter trailing behind. The event was in full swing, booths and demonstrations were surrounded by children and adults alike, and there were people starting to get food and sit down at tables. 

Peter felt nervous again all of the sudden. He’d left the table. And he could barely see his dad or Pepper over all the adults walking in various directions. All he had now that was familiar was Harley. When Peter glanced back from trying to see the adults in his life, he jumped at finding Harley a bit further ahead than before. 

Peter was quick to catch up, running quickly to catch up to the familiarity of Harley. 

And then, to Peter’s horror, he grabbed a fistful of Harley’s shirt when he finally caught up. 

Maybe it was his anxiety, or possibly the nerves. He was scared to be in the crowd. To be away from his dad in a room of strangers. 

It had been an unconscious thing for him. A practiced movement. And it had been since he was just a baby. When he was seeking comfort. But he usually only did it to his dad. It was normal to grab a fistful of his dad’s suit jacket, or of his shirt. His hand, or anything that would ground Peter to the comfort his father supplied. 

But he’d done it to Harley. 

The older froze at the grip on his shirt, turning slowly to see Peter’s own just a shocked expression. Peter was quick to drop his grip, pulling away like he’d been scolded by the fabric of Harley’s shirt. Harley stared at the wrinkled fabric from where it had been bunched together. 

“I-I-” Peter flushed red, taking a slow step back. “S-sorr--” 

Harley eyed him for a second, then glanced down at his wrinkled shirt, then back up to Peter, where his shocked features softened to his usual neutral. 

“The experiments wait for no one, Pete, let’s get a move on if we wanna see the cool ones,” Harley easily cut Peter off. The younger sucked in a breath, as he stuffed his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. Peter managed a small nod, to which Harley gave a tilt of his own head in acknowledgment. 

Harley didn’t move until Peter was at his side. The older boy didn’t mention it. He didn’t really acknowledge it. He shouldn’t. Not when Peter was obviously embarrassed. Harley was more shocked than embarrassed. As weird as it was, it was almost nice, since it was something Peter always did to his dad. 

Harley couldn’t explain it. 

He’d seen Peter do it hundreds of times to his dad since they met outside of school. It was one of Peter’s quirks—the ones his mom told him about. So, he wasn’t about to make anything out of it. It could stay between them. 

The walked side by side the rest of the way to the table. It was crowded, of course, since the topic was cool and educational all the same. The models were awesome, and Harley expected nothing else from Stark Industries. 

What with all the cool things Tony had hidden away in his garage. The company would be no different. And these were just the projects they were willing to share. 

Harley managed to push his way to the front of the crowd, Peter following behind like a scared duckling. When the reached the front, the settled in to watch. 

It was cool. All the different types of eco-friendly energy converters. The guy explaining everything even had a few of his own ideas to improve eco-energy, which Harley thought was pretty cool. Peter seemed to be enjoying the demonstration too. 

And as Harley promised, Peter had been handed a mini wind turbine to hold and examine. Peter had smiled widely at Harley before turning and tilting the object in his hands to examine. 

Peter was the youngest in the group, Harley not far behind. There were a few kids his age, and the others appearing to be between late middle school and high school ages. 

It wasn’t a terribly long demonstration. The guy knew his audience to have rather short attention spans, so he dumbed it down and made it mostly about the cool aspects of the project. 

Harley liked a project like that, without all the science mumbo-jumbo. He liked science, but he didn’t want a textbook. He wanted the cool experiments and to see end result, rather than suffering through all the boring stuff. 

When it did come to an end, Peter was wide-eyed. 

“That was so cool!” the younger cheered as the group dispersed. “He didn’t talk about the reactor though, I wonder why. It’s pretty eco-friendly. Daddy said so.” 

“I don’t know,” Harley shrugged, hands in his jeans pockets. He didn’t know much about the reactor—not like Peter, at least. It was cool though. 

“Hey!” Harley turned swiftly to see one of the kids he met earlier during his rounds at the booths. The guy was roughly Harley’s age, if not a bit younger. They hadn’t talked much, enough to strike up conversation, but nowhere near a friendship at all—they hadn’t even exchanged names. “You saw the eco-whatever thing, right? I saw you coming from there.” 

“Uh yeah,” Harley glanced at Peter, whose eyes were on the ground and his head downcast. 

“Eco-friendly,” Peter muttered. Harley heard it, and he was sure the other heard it too, but he didn’t glance in Peter’s direction at all. The other kept his gaze locked on Harley. Harley furrowed his eyebrows at the other, who blatantly ignored Peter. 

“Good, I don’t know if you know, but that huge thing in the front lobby of the building is an eco-energy thing. I don’t know though, it’s pretty stupid. The guy didn’t talk about it at all. I bet it’s all made up-” 

“It’s not!” Peter squawked suddenly before Harley could answer. “It’s real! It’s an Arc Reactor, and it’s real!” 

“Look, Shrimp,” the other’s attention finally dropped to Peter in irritation. The younger cowered back a bit behind Harley, and if Harley weren’t already annoyed with this guy, he certainly was now. “The big kids are talking here. I bet you didn’t understand anything the guy was talking about, huh?” Peter remained silent, eyes down again after his burst of energy, “now, run along to mommy, alright?” 

That struck a nerve in Harley. Because Peter didn’t really have a mom. Not one in his life now. Peter didn’t have a mom, like Harley didn’t have a dad. A dad, but no mom. And this jerk is being exactly that: a jerk. 

Harley would be swinging punches if anyone told him to run back to his daddy like this guy had told Peter to run back to his mommy. There was just a line you shouldn’t cross, and this guy just sprang past it. 

“I think you should back off, asshole,” Harley muttered so the two around him could hear, but no one else. That would be just what he needed, his mom hearing him say words like that. “I bet he understood more of it than you did.” 

Harley didn’t know what he was so mad all of the sudden. He’d called Peter a shrimp before, he was sure. But Harley’s tone had been playful, this guy was sneering the name. And it pissed him off. Who does this guy think he was insult Peter like that? 

“W-what?” the other sputtered, “you’re kidding, he’s like five! You calling me stupid, you asshole?” 

“He’s seven,” Harley snapped in Peter’s defense, arm dropping over Peter’s shoulder and pulling him into his side. “He’s seven, almost eight, and I bet he’s got double the brains that your big fat head‘s got, you jerk.” 

“Listen here,” the other growled, suddenly stock and defensive, “My dad’s got some real pull around here. He’s like way up, got his own office and everything. I can get him to kick you out, if I want-” 

“Funny,” Harley snapped calmly, “his dad,” he nodded his head in Peter’s direction, “is Tony Stark, you know, of _Stark Industries_. And my mom, is Pepper Potts, the _CEO_. But you get your dad with ‘real pull’ and ‘his own office’ to try to throw us out. I _dare_ you, asshole.” 

“Oh, yeah right!” the other snarled, “I bet ya never even met Tony Stark--” 

“No, we’ve met,” Harley swiveled around, dragging absently Peter with him. He blinked in surprise at Tony, who was stood firmly behind them, arms crossed across his chest. His eyes were locked on the other boy, but he glanced down when Peter called a surprised ‘Daddy!’. 

“T-Tony Stark!” The boy gaped. 

“Can I ask why you’re claiming I’ve never met my boys?” 

“Uh--” 

“It’s nothing, Daddy,” Peter chirped, pulling in everyone’s attention. “He said a mean thing. But I don’t mind. It’s okay because Harley stood up for me really good.” 

“Mean thing, huh?” Tony looked between his boys, before zeroing in on the other with a tight-lipped smile. “You two go back to the table, your mom’s waiting there to take the two of you to get some food, alright?” Harley nodded, tightening his hold on Peter. “And you, are going to show me to your parent. There’ll be no saying mean things to anyone here.” 

“Y-yes, Mister Stark.” 

“Good.” Tony stepped closer to the boy. “I’ll be back at the table in a few minutes, alright boys?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” Peter nodded. 

“Uh, sure,” Harley blinked, then, “c’mon, Pete.” 

Harley led Peter away as the boy led Tony. He looked like a shamed puppy doing a walk of shame with his tail between his legs after peeing on the carpet. It was kind of hilarious. 

“Harley?” Peter looked up with a shy expression. He was playing with his own fingers, curls falling over his eyes. The older paused, looking down and finally noticing Peter was still tucked under his arm. He didn’t bother pulling away yet. 

“Hn?” Harley acknowledged. 

“Thank you.” 

Harley furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to look at Peter’s face, “no problem.” 

“You’re real good at fighting,” Peter said to break the silence, “that was so cool—he didn’t know what hit ‘em!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley laughed openly, snaking a hand up to pull Peter’s hood up and then over his eyes and hold it there for a second, blocking Peter’s sight. The younger squirmed, reaching to try and pry it away all the while laughing openly. “Just don’t tell my mom that. She’s still mad I said ass last week.” 

“Secret’s safe with me!” Peter smiled brightly up at him. 

“Better be,” Harley snorted, then continued on with a teasing smile. “I know where you sleep, kid.” 

“I know where _you_ sleep too.” 

“Yeah,” Harley chuckled, as his playful threat flew straight over Peter’s head, “fair enough, Pete.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based loosely on what I remember from my dad’s military unit’s bring your family to work day of sorts. It was the only time that people from the unit could bring family in and show them around- there was face painting (camo), examples of weapons (unloaded of course), activities involving night-vision goggles, uniform dressing up, trying on rucksacks, tours inside tanks and military vehicles and to top it off, helicopter rides around the city. Tried to fit it in with Stark Industries, but I don't actually know much about SI. 
> 
> To the person in the last chapter's comments who wanted something more on Peter's anxiety, I hope this alright! Now, I hope you all enjoyed Harley finally sticking up for Peter (not to the right kid, but he'll get there). Also, side note, snarky, sarcastic, fluffy Harley is best Harley. You can't change my mind. 
> 
> And since I thoroughly love seeing you all interact with the story and I love learning new things about ya'll and reading your stories, the question for this chapter is: _What's the coolest thing you've ever experienced?_ Mine would be a helicopter ride over the city at the event mentioned above, everything was so small and the pilot kept us up life 15 minutes longer because my friend and I were having so much fun. As always, feel free not to answer, but all are very appreciated! It could be anything, quite the open-ended question. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next update! :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! It's about to get angsty here! _**Now! Please, read the notes, even if you usually just skim passed! It's very important!** _
> 
> People have been asking (after I hinted), so I have delivered. This, and the next two chapters following, will be the events of Skip. As a lot of us know, Skip is a terrible person, who does bad things to children. So, **big warnings** that there will be sensitive content in the upcoming three chapters. Now, I will not be adding any main, major tag to this fic because this is not the focus of the story. There will be additional tag warnings, but this these chapter notes will be the only main warning received. Still, please, please, please be warned, and be careful reading if you've ever encountered anything along the lines of sexual abuse and/ or molestation. Or, even if you're sensitive to the topic, it's not for everyone.
> 
> And, just to cover my bases, I am no professional, by any means. What I have regarding this situation is coming from intensive research, and things may not be right. Google is not always right, and there's only so much I can do with what I have.
> 
> Also! Big big big thanks to jwriter819 who helped me big time by pre-reading these three chapters and helping me make sure it wasn't _too_ intense. Imma be honest here, if she hadn't helped, I probably wouldn't have posted these chapters at all. This was a bit of an uncomfortable thing to write, simply because I'm under-educated (also very anxious) and this is a topic no one really likes to think about, even though it happens everywhere all the time. So, thank you jwriter819! I recommend checking out her fics, she's a lovely person and a phenomenal writer! :D
> 
> Now, prepare yourselves. Onward to the angst~

Peter had thought life was pretty good. It was now, at least. He had friends, and family. He had a boy who was basically a brother (Peter thought so, but Harley still denied it). He had his dad, and now he had Pepper who was the closest thing he’d ever had to a mom (Aunt Nat not included, though she was his leading female role model). 

Life was good. 

So, of course, something had to mess that up. 

“What do you mean Skip’s coming over?” Peter swallowed hard, glancing up from where his Dad was sitting on the coffee table in front of him, to Pepper, stood right behind his father, arms crossed across her chest. 

“You know we can’t get out of this corporate exhibition, Pete. It’s been planned for more than three months. We’ll have people from Hammer Tech and Oscorp there. It would look pretty dumb if I, the owner, didn’t show up-” 

“Pepper can stay with me-” 

“And Pepper needs to be there too, all the other CEO’s will be present, so Stark Industries will be no different.” 

“But-” 

“No buts, Kiddo.” Tony shook his head, standing from his spot on the sturdy table, “we need to be there, Pete. People are expecting us.” 

“I know,” Peter frowned with a shake of his head, “I know, I know, I know. But... But, what about uncle Rhodey, or Steve and Bucky, or, or, Happy, or aunt ‘Tasha?” 

“Uncle Rhodey’s deployed for the weekend,” Tony started, counting off on his fingers, “Steve and Bucky are visiting Bucky’s mom and sisters,” two more fingers down, “Happy will be attending the exhibition with us- forehead of security, you know- and aunt Nat couldn’t possibly get here before we need to leave tonight.” Tony dropped his last two fingers. 

“What about Harley?” Peter pleaded, eyes landing on the older boy, who’d been lounged on the loveseat, playing an old DS game. It had looked like Harley hadn’t been paying any attention, which Peter knew was false. The older boy was always eavesdropping. 

“Woah, no, don’t drag me into this. I’ve got places to be tonight.” Harley’s gaze drifted from the game for a second before looking back at the game. “You’re on your own, Pete.” 

“Peter, you know Harley’s going to Miles’ birthday sleepover tonight.” Pepper’s voice was soft, and her eyes curious. 

“I know,” Peter huffed, “I... I can go with you then, right? I’ll put on a suit, and I can-” 

“No can do, Bambi,” Tony frowned, “there’s alcohol, and we won’t be home until way after your bedtime.” 

“Besides,” Pepper continued, “it’s going to be super boring. You’ll have much more fun here.” 

"Then... then, uhm, I’ll stay home alone. Yeah, can I, daddy?” 

“Uh, that’s a no from me, Champ.” 

“Whyyy?” Peter whined, flopping further down in the couch. “Harley can stay home alone- I stay home with him without you guys all the time! That’s not fair, I don’t need a babysitter!” 

“You’re not old enough to stay home alone, sweetheart. Even if you’re confident, I’m not ready for that.” Tony frowned, confused by Peter’s outburst. “A couple more years before we’re ready for that. And, Harley is three years older than you, let’s not forget.” 

“Why is a babysitter such a big deal?” Pepper asked curiously, and suddenly, all eyes were on Peter. Prying and curious, and overall a bit judgey. Peter squirmed in his chair, knowing they were all family and wouldn’t really judge him, but that thought was not helping at all. 

“Yeah, Bambi, you like Skip. What’s all the fuss, all the sudden? I’m sure Skip hasn’t changed much since you saw him last, even though that was quite a while ago now.” 

And that, right there, was Peter’s problem. Skip hadn’t changed. Peter knew he hadn’t. He’d waltz into the house like he always did, see Peter’s dad (and Pepper now) out the door, and then Peter would be stuck with him. Stuck for the whole evening, having no say in the weird games they play- or over the gross videos he made Peter watch with him. 

It made Peter uncomfortable, and he didn’t feel very safe with Skip. He was just... too touchy-feely for Peter’s liking. Weird, uncomfortable touchy-feely. Not like his dad, or his uncles, or Pepper or Aunt Nat did. It didn’t... it didn’t feel the same. 

Skip liked to do ‘grown-up things’-- things Peter couldn’t understand. 

Peter just really didn’t like it. It didn’t feel right. It made him feel gross. 

Skip had said, the first time they watched an adults only movie in the living room, that if he told an adult about what they were doing, they’d be mad at Peter- for watching and not stopping Skip- even if Peter didn’t get a choice. 

Skip said that even if he did tell, no one would believe him. It would be Peter’s word against Skip’s, and that the adults always trust the older babysitter. Peter wasn’t quite sure about that- but he really didn’t want to test the theory. 

He’d be devastated if his dad listened to Skip’s word over his own. Peter wanted to think that would never happen, but it was nagging thought in the back of his mind. 

And even worse, Skip told him his dad and uncles and his aunt would all be _disappointed_ in him if he were to tell. Disappointed that Peter let Skip do things. He didn’t want his dad to be disappointed. 

So, he never said anything. 

But he avoided Skip like the plague. 

And he’d been free from him for so long- what with everyone being focused on Harley and Pepper moving in, and everyone bonding and all that. But Peter’s time of freedom had come to an end, and now there was virtually no way for him to get out of this. 

He was trapped again. 

“I-I don’t want you to go,” Peter pleaded, eyes tearing up. “I-I’ll, I’ll miss you...” 

“Sweetheart,” Tony cooed, sitting down beside Peter on the couch and throwing his arm over Peter’s shoulders to pull him into his side, “I know it’s been a while, but you’ll have fun with Skip. Just like you always do, right?” 

“R-right,” Peter wiped his tears away, “just like... just like I always do...” 

Peter shook his head, so his curls would fall into his face and hide his eyes. “I’m... I’m alright now. You guys... you have to get ready. You’ll be late, Daddy.” 

“Crap,” Tony studied his son for a second longer before he sighed, pulling away from Peter, though pausing to ruffle a hand through Peter’s curls, only aiding in covering the top of the boy’s face, “he’s right. We’ve gotta be out of here in an hour.” 

Peter watched miserably, as his dad and Pepper scurried from the room. They’d be done changing in the next half an hour, and in about forty-five minutes, there would be a knock on the door, and doom would be entering his house. 

“So, who is this guy anyways?” Harley asked uninterestedly, not looking up from his game. 

“He’s... my friend.” Peter swallowed hard. That’s what Skip called himself every time he was over. “We met at the public library a while ago... And he said I was smart because of all the books I was checking out,” Peter explained monotonously. 

“The library?” Harley’s head lulled int Peter’s direct in interest, but his eyes remained on the game, “you met this dude at the library? How old is he?” 

“Yeah,” Peter pulled his knees up to his chest, and let his forehead fall on the gap between them, “he, um, goes to college now. But... but he still watches me, when dad needs him...” 

“College?” Harley’s attention shifted from the game to Peter now, eyebrows furrowed, “and this guy just... just talks to you in a library? Randomly?” 

The younger shrugged. 

“One of the books I had, he was signing out the other copy for his high school class...” Peter informed, turning his head so his cheek was resting on his knees instead of his forehead. “Not random. ‘sides, we were... we were friends after that. He wanted to be my friend.” 

“Pretty random,” Harley shook his head, shutting the DS. “Why're you so against him coming over then, if he’s your friend?” 

The younger remained silent. Eyes locked on the couch cushion beside him, and fingers on the hand not wrapped around his knees tousling with a thread hanging off the edge of his jeans. 

Peter wasn’t sure if Harley counted as telling an adult. He wasn’t an adult in the slightest, but he was older than Peter. He really didn’t want to get in trouble. 

“I... I don’t like the games we play,” Peter said quietly, shifting once again so his chin was in the gap between his knees and his eyes were focused on the blank television. 

“Seriously? That temper tantrum over games?” Harley asked, but there was something different in his voice. Something Peter couldn’t place. It didn’t have any bite behind it. It was... maybe concerned. “What kind of games?” 

Peter refused to answer that. That would give too much away. “He likes grown up movies too,” Peter added. There were a lot of kinds of grown up movies. Peter wasn’t sure what exactly they watched, but Skip said it was something adults like. And he really didn’t like it. 

Harley didn’t say anything else. And Peter didn’t bother adding anything either. 

It wasn’t much later that their parents returned downstairs. Pepper running through manner etiquette with Harley for his sleepover, and Tony just sitting on the couch with Peter. The boy tucked on his dad’s arm, and the man scrolling away on his phone. 

Being tucked in his dad’s side took away a little of his anxiety about their visitor set to arrive in the next twenty minutes- but not very much. 

Peter could feel Harley’s eyes on him, but he refused to glance at him. Would Harley be able to see the fear? Had he disclosed too much information? Would Skip be mad at him? 

When the doorbell finally went off, Peter tensed in his father’s side- which had the man glancing down at him in confusion. Peter forced himself to relax, and grinned at his dad. 

Peter listened to Pepper greeting the young adult at the door ‘Hi, you must be Steven. My name’s Pepper.’ ‘Ah, Ms. Potts. Tony told me about you. Please, call me Skip. Steven’s much too formal. It’s nice to meet you.’ 

Then, the man walked into the room, followed by Pepper, with a pleased smile. 

“Skippo,” Tony greeted, “long time no see.” 

“Tony,” Skip grinned. “It has been a while. My main source of income was gone.” Everyone laughed, well, except Peter. And Peter noticed that Harley hadn’t either. The older boy was sizing Skip up, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I missed you, Einstein.” 

Peter refrained from wincing at the all too familiar nickname. 

“M-missed you too, Skip.” Peter forced a smile, sliding out from his dad’s side. He stepped towards the man in the doorway, squeezing his eyes shut as he hugged the older man. Skip liked hugs. Skip returned it good-naturedly, patting Peter between the shoulder blades. 

“Nice glasses, Einstein. They make you look even smarter than before.” Skip grinned, tapping the frames of the glasses, which were a new addition to Peter’s person that the man had never seen before. The frames slid down Peter’s nose a bit, but he didn’t flinch or move, which was weird for Harley to see. 

“Thank you, Skip,” Peter mumbled, sounding almost rehearsed. The boy’s nimble fingers moved to push the frames back into place, and the adults laughed once more. 

Peter was quick to duck his head after seeing Harley’s observant eyes watching him. The older boy had ditched his DS on the coffee table now, and was simply sprawled along the loveseat, arms crossed across his chest and watching the exchanges cautiously. 

“Oh, hi there,” Skip greeted Harley upon noticing him. Peter had taken that as his opportunity to sit on the floor and tuck his bottom half under the coffee table, resting his upper body on the smooth surface and watching cautiously. “Am I looking out for two kids today?” 

“Oh, no,” Tony shook his head, reaching over to ruffle Peter’s hair as he stood. 

“This is my son Harley, and he’s going to a sleepover tonight, so it’s just Peter still.” Pepper explained, smiling at Skip. 

“Ah, gotcha.” Skip nodded. “Great to meet you, Harley.” 

“Yeah,” Harley blinked, narrowing his eyes. 

“Well, now that you’re here, we should get going. SI’s quite a bit away from here. There’s a fine line between fashionably late and late, and we really shouldn’t be walking it at our own event.” Tony adjusted his cuff links, then grabbed both his own, and Pepper’s jackets off the back of the recliner. 

“C’mon, Harley.” Pepper gestured the boy over, “we’re dropping you off at Miles’ a bit early.” 

Harley looked between Skip and Peter, then back to his mom and Tony, both pulling their jackets on. He stood slowly, eyeing Skip, who was now sat comfortably on the couch where Tony had been sitting. 

The dude gave him a weird vibe... he couldn’t place his finger on it though. Clearly no one else thought anything was weird between Skip and Peter. Harley couldn’t help it though- the guy rubbed him the wrong way. Something was off about this dude. But... if Tony trusted him, he could too, right? 

“I’m coming,” Harley nodded, stooping to pick up his overnight bag, then walking slowly towards the adults waiting at the door. 

“Bring a jacket, sweetheart,” Pepper suggested. “You don’t know if your friends will want to play outside or something, and I want you to be nice and warm.” 

“Alright, mum,” Harley nodded, glancing back at Peter and Skip momentarily. Peter looked nervous. Far more than was usual for the kid. More than... more than when Flash stalked towards him. Something was weird here. 

The man joined them in the entry way, leaving Peter alone in the living room. 

“Thanks again for coming, Skip, I know it was such short notice,” Tony mumbled seriously, “Steve and Bucky left just this morning for a family emergency. You’re doing us a huge favor.” 

“It’s no problem,” Skip waved a dismissive hand, smiling wide. A smile that Harley could easily tell was hiding something. Too wide, too bright. Sickly sweet. Absolutely disgusting. He was definitely covering something up. “I love hanging out with Einstein. We watch movies and read and stuff. We have fun.” 

The younger bristled at the mention of the movies. The movies Peter didn’t like. But he kept his mouth shut, zipping his coat quietly. 

“Anyways," Harley glanced up sharply at the man’s voice, he was looking at him now, “I’ll see you around, Harley. Have fun at your sleepover,” Skip smiled. 

“Hn,” Harley hummed, to which his mother smacked his shoulder, muttering about manners. Harley ignored her, glaring at Skip. The man pretended not to notice, instead grinning at Tony and Pepper. 

“We really have to leave,” Tony looked down at his watch, “you’ve got my number if anything happens. I can’t imagine Peter’ll be much trouble, but he was a little anxious about Pepper and I leaving. Guess he got pretty used to everyone being home, so he’s been a bit clingy. A bit of separation anxiety, if I were to guess.” 

“No problem,” Skip laughed, “we’ll have fun. I’ll keep him distracted.” 

“Alright,” Tony nodded, then louder continued, “love you, Pete. Behave.” 

“Love you Peter,” Pepper called from the doorway too, “we’ll be home later, after you’ve gone to bed, alright?” 

“Love you too,” Peter’s meek voice came from the living room. Harley could see the boy curled the exact same way they’d all left him in. 

He silently followed his parents out the door, getting into the car and settling in his seat, attention locked on Peter’s car seat, strapped in right beside him. Tony and Pepper got in right after him, into their respective seats. Tony liked to be the one to drive, and his mom never liked driving at night anyways. 

“How did... how’d you find him?” Harley asked slowly from the backseat. 

“Hm?” Tony glanced at the boy in the rearview mirror, “Skip?” 

Harley nodded, keeping eye contact until Tony looked away to pull out of the driveway. Harley had gotten a small amount of information from Peter, but not nearly enough for him to build a case on the guy. There had to be a reason why Peter was acting like he was. 

“He found us, actually,” Tony explained slowly, “met Peter in a library. I thought it was a bit weird at first. That Peter wanted to be friends with Skip- and that Skip wanted to be friends with Peter too. No high schooler willingly wants to hang out with the younger kids. 

“But they were just so content in their friendship- Skip would come over, and they’d play in the yard, or play Legos in Peter’s room. And, I mean, Peter’s never had very many friends. And Skip was a pretty nice kid. Nice to Peter, at least. All that jazz. Then, one afternoon, I was in a bit of a pickle- Bucky needed a hand in the garage, but no one was available to watch Peter. 

“Skip had been playing in the yard with him, and they’d been friends for a while at that point... And, well, when he offered to watch after him for a bit, he seemed like an ideal option. So, I let him watch over Peter, and got phenomenal reviews from Peter at dinner that night. From there, he just became the regular backup babysitter. That was... a couple months before we introduced you and Peter to each other.” 

Harley listened quietly to Tony talking. They were fast approaching Miles’ house, which was only three blocks away from them. A weird dread filled Harley’s whole being, making him almost feel like throwing up. 

“That’s kind of cute,” Pepper smiled lightly at Tony. “He seemed like a nice kid.” 

“He is,” Tony nodded, “I don’t need him often, but he’s always available when I do need him. Their relationship is pretty cute.” 

Harley almost groaned when they pulled into Miles’ driveway. He wanted to know more. He still had questions. He still had a weird gut feeling about the guy. 

“Uhm, thanks for the ride,” Harley forced a smile. “Miles is waiting.” 

“Sure,” Tony nodded, “have a good time, Kiddo.” 

“Have fun, Honey,” Pepper smiled, “remember your manners. I will hear about it if you don’t.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley shook his head, “love you.” 

“Love you too!” his mom and Tony both shouted back. Tony’s lips curled into a teasing smile, to which Harley stuck his tongue out. 

“Bye,” Harley slammed the door behind himself, walking to the door, and giving a final wave before stepping into the house after the door was pulled open. 

“Harls!” Miles greeted, “welcome, my first guest. Everyone else will be here anytime.” 

“Cool,” Harley flashed a grin, but couldn’t help the sinking feeling in this stomach. If Tony trusted that dude, Harley could too. 

\---- 

The sleep over was fun. 

So far, at least. He had only been here for about an hour and a half. Everyone else showed up almost right on time. Harley and Miles had played a couple rounds of Mario Kart, where Harley, the usual victor, was defeated each and every round. He couldn’t seem to focus. At all. His mind always going back to Peter and Skip. 

The rest of the guests had been majority their soccer teammates, as well as a couple friends from Miles’ school. Harley liked everyone, and it was fun and all. He was having a good time. 

They had pizza for dinner. And ice-cream and cake after the pizza. 

Then they played stupid party games that Miles’ dad wanted them to play. Pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, a riveting game of musical chairs, as well as sticking a pinata to death in the kitchen- all of which had Miles looking as though he’d shoot himself in embarrassment if he had the chance. 

Harley thanked his lucky stars that his mom and Tony weren’t like this. 

But it was fun. Enough. Everyone played along to appease Miles’ dad. And thankfully, Miles’ mom was around to be the referee when Miles and his did were about to bicker over the stupidity of any of the games. 

When they’d finished all of Miles’ dad’s games, they went to Miles’ room to play video games, all swapping turns after losing or winning. 

But Harley had this sick feeling. One he’d had since he’d sat on the ground to play Mario Kart with the birthday boy. He’s eaten one slice of pizza, and not bothered with ice-cream. His stomach churned as he forced a slice of cake down. 

And then through the games, he’d wanted to throw up. Something wasn’t sitting right- and it had nothing to do with the junk food. 

Harley disappeared into the bathroom, feeling terrible about staying the night. He’d waited months for this sleepover. The first he’d ever gone to that didn’t have Flash attending too. But the only thing he could think about was Peter. 

The things Peter had said. How quiet the usually annoying boy was. How he’d gone completely compliant when Skip had entered the room. 

Tony trusted Skip... but... Harley didn’t. Couldn’t find it in himself to. His mom had always said to trust his gut when something wasn’t looking right- and this wasn’t looking right. 

“Harley, sweetheart, are you alright in there?” Harley waited a second, then flushed the unused toilet for effect. Miles’ mom was standing outside the door, worry clear on his face. He must look sick. Which he was. But with worry, he supposed. “Are you okay?” 

She was a nurse, Harley knew. So, he must look pretty darn ill for her to be concerned. 

“I... I’m not,” Harley admitted quietly, “I feel sick... I just wanna... I wanna go home.” 

“Okay,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing comfortingly, “I’ll go call you mother to come pick you up.” 

“She can’t,” Harley informed quietly, “and neither can Tony. They’re at a Stark Industries thing.” 

“Oh,” the woman paused, “I’ll drive you home then-” 

“You don’t have too,” Harley shook his head, “the house isn’t that far. I can walk.” Run. He was going to run. He was going to sprint all the way home, because he felt like he needed too. 

“I forgot you moved,” the woman laughed, then sobered, “are you sure you want to walk?” Harley nodded, swallowing hard. “I don’t think you should be home by yourself if you’re sick...” 

“I won’t be,” Harley gave a shaky smile, “Peter’s home with a babysitter. I-I'm sure Skip won’t mind watching me for a bit too.” 

“If you’re sure,” she didn’t look comfortable with the situation, “you wait here, I’ll go get your bag and tell everyone you’re leaving.” 

“Thank you.” 

Harley waited anxiously by the door, and bit his lip guiltily when a slightly crestfallen Miles rounded the corner carrying his backpack. 

“Mom said you’re sick, and that you’re leaving.” 

“Yeah,” Harley swallowed again. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Miles shook his head, passing the bag over. “You’ve been weird all night. You okay?” 

“Uh, no, not really. But... I will be. I just have too-” the boy pointed to the door by a thumb thrown over his shoulder, expression apologetic. Miles gave a nod. Permission to leave early, guilt free. A small weight was lifted off his shoulders with that. Miles was Harley’s best friend, after all. 

“Happy birthday, I hope you have fun with everyone else.” 

“Won’t be the same without you,” Miles admitted, leaning against the wall, “but we’ll manage. Now, whatever you’ve got going on seems pretty important. Thanks for the gift, I’ll see you at soccer, and you better come over some time to play some of my new video games together, got it?” 

“Sure,” Harley grinned, “thanks, Man.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Miles waved halfheartedly, but Harley could tell he was a bit embarrassed, “shoo now. I’ll call you tomorrow or something. Or, you call me.” 

“Yeah,” Harley agreed, “okay. See you!” 

And then Harley was out. Walking slowly and sickly as he strolled away from Miles’ house in case Miles’ mom or dad happened to be watching, but sprinting as soon as he was no longer in view. 

Harley’s feet pounded on the pavement below him, and his breaths came out rushed. He didn’t know why he was so unsettled. He’d probably walk into the house and feel like an idiot when Peter and Skip were just watching a movie together. An adult comedy, or something. Or maybe even a horror movie- since Peter hated it so much. 

The SI event was supposed to be a couple hours at least. It started just before dinner, the meal was provided, and things wouldn’t end before twelve at least, especially with the open bar Tony had mentioned. And his mom and Tony wouldn’t really be able to leave until the vast majority left. 

Harley huffed his breaths as he walked hurriedly up the walkway of his house. The three blocks had been longer than he’d originally thought, or how it looked in the car- but he’d still made it less than ten minutes. 

The boy paused outside the door, listening. He heard nothing. So, he slowly opened the door, thanking every God he’d ever heard about in passing that it didn’t squeak and announce his presence. 

He slipped his shoes off, which would clunk on the floor, and tip-toed silently on his socked feet. 

Harley didn’t know what he was expecting to find. But it certainly wasn’t this- 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take care of yourselves. This stuff can be triggering, I know, so, please take care of yourself. 
> 
> These three chapters, since they're intense and a serious topic will be posted in a row over the span of three days. I want to keep some suspense, but not an overwhelming amount. I will be posting the next part tomorrow, and the third and last part of the Skip chapters the day after. After these three chapters, this event will only be mentioned in passing. As said, it's not the main focus of the story-- and I can't physically write it as a main focus. I am very aware that people don't get over these types of things quite that fast, but I'm not suited to focus a whole story on it. This is a work of fiction, so things won't always be time appropriate. 
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoyed. More tomorrow, and more important notes.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the angsty-est of the three chapters. I don't think anything is overly descriptive (and jwriter819 helped me out again with pre-reading and making sure nothing was too much (big thank you once again!)), but to each their own. What might not seem bad to me, could be triggering to someone else. Caution is recommended if you know you're triggered by anything like this. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy and please stay safe.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” the words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. He asked, but he knew the answer. He knew what that asshole was doing. He just really didn’t want to believe it. The thought made him sick. 

“Get away from him!” Harley wasn’t even sure how he’d put himself between Peter and Skip. Had no idea how he’d done it so fast. He didn’t know when he’d shoved the adult away, but he had. Skip tripped over his own pants, almost falling to the floor. 

Peter’s pants were completely pulled off and tossed to the other side of the couch, and his underwear had been pulled down a bit. Skip had his pants around his ankles, but thankfully, the older man was still wearing his boxers. 

But that didn’t help the fact that Peter’s lower areas were in plain sight. That he wasn’t dressed completely from the waist down. Harley was smart, he could piece what was really happening here together. And it wasn’t right. At all. 

Harley turned briefly to pull the blanket on the back of the couch over Peter’s lap, before turning his glare back to Skip. The man was shakily pulling his pants back up and finicking with the belt hanging loose from the belt loops of his jeans. 

Peter looked terrified, tears clinging to his eyelashes. And it made Harley’s heart hurt- tore it apart to see Peter, sarcastic, little brat, Peter look like that. Look so defeated. 

“What the fuck?” Harley snarled, eyes jumping around the room, to Peter’s discarded pants, to the TV playing a _very_ adult film. Peter hadn’t been lying about that. Harley had to admit that he wasn't much a fan of movies like this either. 

“Harley,” Skip’s nervous smile landed on Harley, “I thought you were at a sleepover-” 

“And that give you the right to do this?” Harley’s hand gestured angrily behind him, where Peter was sat, but Skip could no longer see him. “To touch him with... with your _pervert_ hands?!” 

“Shh,” Skip lifted a finger to his lips, “shh, please, I wasn’t touching him just-- this, it’s a, it’s a misunderstanding, Harley.” 

“I will not shh!” Harley snarled. “And, a misunderstanding?” Harley screeched, backing up carefully so the back of his knees bumped against Peter’s blanketed knees, blocking Skip’s view entirely, “explain it then! Explain this misunderstanding, Skip. Tell me, why are my little brother’s pants are over there? Why the hell your pants were around your ankles? And just what the hell is on my tv?” 

“Harley, please, you seem like a good kid- Peter and I, we’ve-” 

“Shut up!” Harley growled, “I’m calling the cops,” the boy snapped, fingers digging in his own pocket to pull the cellphone he had for emergencies. Emergency services were on speed dial, as well as his mother’s number, and now Tony’s. 

He didn’t know if this was a cops situation- but he was scared, and Peter was scared, and the police could get here a million times faster than their parents could. And that was if he could even get through to his parents with their phones on silent. 

They needed someone now. 

“No, n-no, that’s not necessary, man. Please, come on, this is-” 

“Shut up!” Harley’s hand lifted to his ear, holding the cellphone as the dial rang, “nothing about this is a misunderstanding, you predator! This is exactly what it looks like!” 

When it finally clicked though, and Harley was connected to a dispatcher, the boy found himself glaring as the man sprinted, running from the room, and straight out the door. He was getting away. The coward was running away. 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” 

“I need police here, the babysitter, he, I just got here, the babysitter,” Harley was frantic, barely managing to keep a train of thought, “my brother, the babysitter was... he was doing bad things to him,” Harley explained, breath hitching as he tried not to cry, “I don’t know.... I don’t know what to do. Please, I need help...” 

“Shh, calm down,” the dispatcher’s voice dropped considerably more comforting with the knowledge she was talking to a child, “what’s your name?” 

“H-Harley,” the boy breathed, reaching to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Harley didn’t know why he was crying. Maybe the stress, or the easing adrenaline of the situation. 

With the assailant gone, Harley finally turned to look at Peter, who was more or less frozen. Peter was pale, more so than usual. His eyes were teary and puffy. He shook where he sat, despite being frozen in place. 

“Are you... are you okay?” Harley’s voice cracked as he moved a hand to cup Peter’s chin and drag in his attention, “did he touch you? Are-are you hurt?” 

After a second of what looked like the younger processing the question, Peter’s head slowly shook back and forth in a silent ‘no’. 

“Harley,” the woman repeated on the other end of the phone like she’d been trying to get his attention while he’d been trying to get Peter’s, “I need you to calm down a little, alright? Now, your brother, what’s his name?” 

“Peter,” Harley continued. “His name’s Peter.” 

Harley’s hand searched for the TV remote so he could turn off the disgusting film on the TV. He turned the TV off completely instead of changing the channel. Harley didn’t even know how Skip would’ve gotten something like that on their television. 

“Alright. Is Peter alright? Should I send an ambulance? Is he hurt anywhere?” 

“N-no, I don’t...” Harley spoke helplessly before kneeling beside Peter, “he... he said he wasn’t hurt...” Harley said into the phone before lowering his voice when turning his attention to Peter, “Do you... do you wanna go to the doctors, Pete?” 

That broke the smaller boy from his trance, and he frantically shook his head as a sob shook his frame. In the next second, Peter was clinging to Harley, wrapping around his waist and holding on tight. Harley brushed his finger’s though Peter’s hair, and tried not to cry harder himself. 

“He’s not... he’s not hurt, and he doesn’t want an ambulance. I... I came home before anything could... before he...” 

“Sh, it’s alright,” the woman cooed. “What is your address? We have officers on the way. Is the assailant still with you?” 

“N-no,” Harley swallowed, “he... he ran as soon as I said I was calling you. He’s... He’s running away.” After that, the boy rattled off the address of the house absentmindedly. 

He hugged Peter close. The younger boy had stopped crying and was more or less just content clutched to Harley’s body. Harley never knew he could be this comfortable hugging anyone who wasn’t his mom. 

“Okay, Harley, police are on the way. Stay calm alright, we’re going to stay on the phone together until the officers arrive, alright?” 

“Alright,” Harley mumbled into Peter’s hair. He paused for a second before pulling away from Peter just enough to speak softly to him, “let’s... let’s put your pants back on, eh, Pete? That’ll make both of us feel a bit better, right?” 

Peter gave a small nod, and pulled away from Harley. Peter’s hands were still shaking- not that Harley’s were much better- so they worked together to get Peter’s pajama pants back on. Harley holding them open, and Peter stepping in- just like Harley had done when he was little and his mom would help him put his pants on. 

“Where are your parents?” the woman in the phone continued, “are they on the way?” 

“They’re at a company event... I called you first. I don’t-” 

“I can call them, and explain the situation to them, alright?” the woman’s soothing voice continued, “what’s their numbers? You’re being a brave boy, Harley. Taking such good care of you brother.” 

Harley gave her Tony’s number, since it was Tony’s son who’d been attacked. He hoped both his mom and Tony would come home since he could really use a hug from his mom, but if only one could make it, it should be Peter’s dad. 

“The police are there, do you hear the sirens?” 

“Y-yeah,” Harley hummed. During their wait, Peter and Harley had cuddled up on the couch together. Both shaken and terrified, but finding comfort in each other. Harley was just happy Peter was alright- that he’d trusted his gut and got to him before anything truly terrible could happen. And Peter happy someone was here- Happy someone saw what Skip was doing. 

“Alright,” the woman breathed out. “I’m going to hang up, alright? The officers will stay with you until your parents come home, okay? We haven’t reached them yet, but we’ll send someone to crash the party if we have too, okay?” 

“Okay,” Harley laughed, and even Peter giggled a little. He could hear the woman now too. Harley had put her on speaker phone, just to fill the silence. “They might have turned their phones off for the speeches and stuff.” 

“Alright. Noted. You boys... you take care, alright?” 

“Alright,” Harley nodded, “thank you.” 

“It’s no problem, honey.” 

And then she was gone. The officers knocked, then entered the house. Peter was hesitant, for good reason, of them getting to close, and Harley was willing to fight anyone at this point, if they even tried to touch the younger boy. 

Thankfully, they kept their distance, and just asked questions. 

\---- 

“That was Miles’ mom, she wanted to make sure we check in on Harley...” Pepper whispered as she sat at the table beside Tony again. She’d gone to take the call outside, as to not be rude. 

Tony’s arm wrapped around her almost instantly, but she was too tense to lean into the touch. She was worried. 

“What do you mean?” 

“He went home,” Pepper explained, voice quiet, “he walked home. Said he was sick, then refused a ride back to the house.” 

“Did you try giving him a call?” Tony asked thoughtfully. They were whispering, as a representative from Hammer Tech droned on, and on about some failed prototype that could possibly change the world. 

Pepper gave a worried nod, “the line was busy...” 

Tony worried his bottom lip between his teeth. The event was supposed to go on for a couple more hours at least... but one of their kids needed them. And it wasn’t like they’d be missing much. The speeches were dull, and Tony was actually regretting hosting the event. 

“Okay. We’ll go check on him. Just... I need to tell Happy we’re leaving so he can cover for us, alright?” 

“I’ll wait in the car.” Pepper pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips before grabbing her purse and coat and slipping away from the dimly lit tables. The Hammer Tech guy was still droning on, completely oblivious to the audience’s slipping attention and boredom. 

Happy was stood by the stage, head far off in the clouds, which under any other circumstances would have the man laughing. 

Surprisingly, as soon as Happy heard they were leaving because of one of the boys, he was on board. He agreed to cover for them if anyone asked. Though, with the open bar, Tony was quite sure no one would really care, or remember they even showed up- nor remember what year it was. 

He joined Pepper at the car as soon as he’d gather his discarded suit jacket, and his outdoor coat. Pepper was already waiting in the turned-on car, since she’d taken the keys. Tony got in, and immediately pulled out of his parking spot and started the drive home. 

“I hope he’s alright,” Pepper sighed, “he was so excited for this sleepover.” 

“I’m sure he is,” Tony lifted a hand from the wheel to pat Pepper’s knee, “probably ate a bit too much pizza and cake,” the man suggested. “He was fine when we dropped him off.” 

“That’s... true,” Pepper agreed, though her attention followed the passing scenery out the window. She didn’t believe that. Cake and Pizza didn’t make Harley sick. He’d never eaten himself sick in his life. “Maybe.” 

“He could just be sick,” the man suggested again. “Harley’s a good kid.” 

“But the phone,” Pepper frowned, glancing at the driver. 

Tony remained silent for a second, thinking of reasons why the emergency phone could be busy. He hadn’t been calling either of them. They’d have gotten alerts of that. 

“I got nothing for that,” Tony admitted quietly. “Somethin’s going on.” 

“I hope he’s alright.” Pepper repeated, and this time, Tony didn’t bother trying to reason with her that Harley was fine. Something _was_ up. 

The man felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but it wasn’t Harley’s ringtone. It was a random number, so the man left it be. It rang again shortly after, but he still left it, since he was driving. 

The third time, right before he pulled into their neighborhood, he finally shuffled the phone from his pocket, and passed it to Pepper to answer. 

Time almost stopped as Pepper answered the phone, and man pulled the car into their drive way. Behind a fucking cop car. Why were the police at his house? The police, at his house, where his son was sitting with a babysitter. The fucking _police_. 

“What the fuck,” Tony hissed nervously, sliding from the car. Pepper remained on the phone, eyes wide and mouth agape, and Tony stormed into the house. He didn’t have the time to be curious of what the person on the other end of the phone was telling her. 

He needed to check on his boys. 

The man threw the door open, muddy shoes forgotten, “Peter! Harley!” 

“Daddy!” Peter’s shaky voice cried, and in the next second, his boy was running into his legs, and constricting like a python around him. Peter was crying. Sobbing, really, and grabbing fistfuls of Tony’s slacks, silently begging to be picked up. 

Tony did just that, scooping the boy up and breathing in a stuttered breath. His kid was safe. But what about- 

“Dad,” Harley was the wrapping around him this time- standing a bit taller than Peter. His arms wrapped around Tony’s torso, and the older boy was tearing up too. Peter buried his face in Tony’s neck, and the man could feel the wetness. 

The arm not supporting Peter, tangled through Harley’s hair to comfort him. Holding the boy’s head against his chest, as he hid his own face in Peter’s curls. 

Just taking a second to be thankful the boys were alright. 

He didn’t know what happened, but something obviously did. Was Skip alright? Did he get hurt, or... or worse? What the hell could scare his boys like this? Why were the cops here? The boys both appeared fine. Upset and terrified aside, at least. 

Two officers emerged from the living room, standing silently with their hands locked together in front of themselves. Silent and sympathetic. 

“T-Tony?” Pepper’s shaky voice called from the doorway behind him. She was pale as a sheet of paper, hands shaking just as bad as the boys’, which suddenly made a knot of dread twist in his stomach. 

“Mum!” Both boys shouted, teary and relieved. Harley unwrapped from him to wrap around his mother instead, who pulled him close and hugged him tight. Tighter than was a usual greeting. That was a parent thankful for a child being unharmed. 

Every second passing had more questions raising for the man. 

Everyone knew something he didn’t. Peter didn’t make any move to greet Pepper, other than the call for her. Instead he tightened around Tony. His sobbing had now subsided to occasional sniffles, not that those broke Tony’s heart any less. 

“Tony...” Pepper started again, hand still running through Harley’s hair, “I think... we should talk outside for a second.” 

“Really?” Tony asked quietly, eyes shifting to the two officers, “right now?” she nodded. “Al... Alright. Peter, you and Harley go sit in the living room with the nice officers, alright?” 

The boy tightened his grip around Tony, before nodding carefully. Tony crouched down, setting the boy on his feet, but not standing up just yet. 

“Come on, Pete,” Harley held his hand out and... Peter took it. Tony had never seen the boys be domestic like that. Never once. Something big happened. And he was still in the dark about it- but, not for long with how Pepper’s nervous eyes were following his every movement. 

When the boys were safely hidden in the living room, an uncomfortable silence being shared between the two and the officers, Tony stood to his full height again. 

The man followed Pepper outside, trusting the officers to look after his kids. 

“What?” Tony asked quietly, stepping into her space, “what’s wrong? What don’t I know?” 

“T-that call,” the woman spoke quietly, looking down almost as if she couldn’t look him in the eye as she said it. 

“What about it?” 

“It was... It was emergency services,” Pepper swallowed hard, looking up briefly before looking back at her feet, “It was... emergency services. All three calls were from a dispatcher. Tony...” 

Pepper squeezed her eyes shut, then looked up at the man before her, “Peter was... Skip he... Peter was getting assaulted.” 

And time froze. The word replayed in the man’s head. Assault. Peter. His son. Assaulted. 

“A-assaulted?” Tony repeated. “Assaulted h-how?” 

He knew how. He knew now. He was aware. But he couldn’t believe it. Believe Peter had been suffering from his lack of noticing. He didn’t want her to say the words. But he knew they were coming. 

Her saying it would make it true. And Tony _really_ didn’t want it to be true. 

“S-” Pepper bit her lip, blinking repeatedly, as a way to try not to cry, “sexually.” 

The man stopped. Stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Just... stopped. 

“You’re telling me that... that sick _bastard_ , was molesting my son?” the man’s voice took an icy turn. 

Anger swelling inside him, of the thought of Skip’s- his disgusting hands touching his little Peter at all. The man he’d trusted to watch after and care for Peter doing something so vile when left alone with his son. Had known for just over a year, had been doing this behind his back. To his son. 

Disgusting, and vile, and truly despicable. 

“Where the hell is he?” Tony snarled. He’d kill him. He’d murder that asshole. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Tony, shh,” Pepper whispered, wrapping around the man, and pulling him into a tight, constricting hug. If he really wanted to, Tony could’ve broken away. But he didn’t. He let his forehead fall onto Pepper’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. “You need to calm down,” she whispered, “I know this is... it’s unbelievable, and disgusting- but think about Peter-” 

And Tony did. 

“-he’s probably confused, and hurt, and he needs someone with a level head. And that’s gotta be you, sweetheart.” Pepper buried her face in Tony’s neck, though her fingers ran through the fine hairs on the nape of his neck as she held him in place. “He needs his daddy.” 

And that all made sense. Peter being afraid, and in need of comfort. And Tony wanted to comfort his boy. Peter needed it. 

He needed to be there for his son. First and foremost. 

Tony pulled away from Pepper’s embrace, and walked right into the house. 

Harley and Peter were sitting side by side on the couch, both still looking shocked. Tony eyed his son up silently as he walked toward him, refraining from giving Peter a frown when his son looked up at him with puppy eyes. He needed to be strong for Peter right now. 

Tony scooped his boy into his arms, and Peter instantly melted into the embrace. He wasn’t crying anymore, but he was constricting tightly around him, which told Tony that Peter was shaken by the events. Anyone would be. 

“You’re alright, aren’t you, baby?” Tony whispered softly to his son, ignoring the officers standing off to the side of the room. Tony felt Peter nod in the crook of his neck. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and held his boy just a bit tighter. 

Pepper had followed him into the room and sat herself on the couch beside Harley, who was curled into her side. The woman’s hand carded through Harley’s hair, like his own had subconsciously started doing to Peter’s. 

“We’re alright,” Tony whispered more to himself than anyone else. “Everything will be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear some things up so people aren't worried! Peter's situation is one of the ones with a happier (though not really happy) outcome, in the sense that nothing extremely bad happened with Skip. Think of this as the best possible outcome for anyone suffering abuse like this. It was bare minimum abuse, but abuse nonetheless. I have no idea how to go about anything more than what's written. Harley found out very early on (thankfully), and Skip hadn’t known Peter for more than a year and a half (counting the months that he didn’t see him because of Pepper and Harley.) 
> 
> Peter is more afraid of the conflict of this whole thing happening, than the actual abuse because he really doesn't know it fr what it is. He really does think it’s just a weird game that he hates—he's young and impressionable, but he knows it’s bad. Just doesn’t know how bad. I’m better at writing conflict than anything abuse related anyways. Please keep all this in mind!
> 
> Also, I've never phone 911, so that was all based off those kids calling 911 videos on YouTube. I am a professional at nothing, and this is all a work of fiction.
> 
> Next chapter will sum everything up, and put most of this to rest. As said before it's not the main focus but may occasionally be mentioned. Anyways, thanks for reading and see you tomorrow!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter really relating to anything Skip. Hopefully it'll clear some things up-- we'll see a bit from everyone's perspective and how they're handling things. I know practically nothing about anything regarding this topic, and what I do have is coming from google searches, articles and first hand recountings I found online. Expect things to be wrong, about the recovery, or the therapy and I really only did a quick search about law things (American law because I am Canadian and I'm unsure if things vary).
> 
> Do be warned that this chapter is a dismissal of everything related to Skip. As I've mentioned in previous notes, this will now only be mentioned in passing, like before, when I hinted at this. I am very aware that this is really not an appropriate amount of time for people to heal from a traumatic event like this, but for the sake of fanfiction, please bear with me! Also, I did add some tags, but the main tags won't be changed, because this is not the focus of this story!
> 
> Now, onwards to the chapter!

“We go every year,” Peter explained happily. “You’ll like it. My room’s got bunk-beds and we’ve got a really pretty beach right in the backyard with a wholeee bunch of seashells, and there’s a pool—but you can’t go in unless daddy comes out too--” 

“I get it Peter,” Harley snorted a laugh as he placed a folded pair of pajamas into the suitcase laying open on the bed. “You really like your dad’s beach house in Malibu.” 

“It’s so pretty though!” Peter chirped from the beanbag chair in the corner of the room. “We can make sand castles and play in the water, and maybe we’ll see dolphins or--” 

“Sharks?” 

Harley held in a laugh as he lifted his attention from his packing to see Peter’s face scrunch up as he frowned, “no, no sharks. They’re not invited.” 

“Like you’d tell a shark it wasn’t invited,” Harley rolled his eyes as he tossed a pair of swimming goggles into his suitcase. Those were followed by the stack of approved shirts his mom had picked out and set on his bed. 

“I would so,” the younger frowned thoughtfully, “and if _I_ didn’t, _you_ would. You’re the best at telling people off!” 

“You want me to tell off a shark?” Harley blinked in surprise, then he scowled, “and don’t tell people I’m the best at telling people off. Do you know how much trouble I’d be in if my mom heard you say that?” 

“But Harley,” Peter whined, “a shark would eat the dolphins.” 

“Why’re you worried about the dolphins? A shark would eat _us_.” 

“Not if you tell him off! You’re real good at that. I’ve seen it a bunch.” The younger gave a firm nod, as if Harley scolding him had gone right over his head, “you did it to that jerk at the SI event, and, and you did it to Skip too. You’ve saved me a bunch, so you can save me from a shark too, right?” 

“I mean...” Harley sighed. It made him feel weird to hear Peter talking such high praise about him. A mushy-fondish feeling. “I guess a shark can’t be that much scarier than Skip, eh?” 

“He was pretty scary,” Peter frowned, then perked up grinning brightly, “but _you_ scared _him_ more. He was so scared of you. A big scaredy cat!” 

Harley didn’t feel the need to point out that Skip was only afraid of him because the thought of going to jail loomed over his head when he realized a witness to his crimes had just walked in on him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley shook his head, glancing fondly at the younger. “Shouldn’t you be packing too? We leave tomorrow morning.” 

“No,” Peter shook his head with a grin, “Daddy’ll do it with me later. Last time I did it by myself, I packed all my books and stuffies instead of clothes and then daddy had to buy me new ones when we got there or I’d be goin’ naked. Said I wasn’t allowed to pack for myself until I was at least thirty.” 

“You know Peter,” Harley winced, “you overshare sometimes.” 

“Do not!” Peter gasped. “You’re mean.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” the older huffed, “now, out you get. Shoo.” 

Peter scowled as he pulled himself up from the beanbag chair and walked towards the door, Harley following behind, almost ushering him out. “You just want me out so I don’t see your undies when you pack ‘em.” 

The older refrained from laughing out loud, but grinned at the younger boy. He watched Peter step through the doorway, then grinned wider. “Maybe. But you’ll never know.” 

The tease was followed by Harley closing his bedroom door, closing Peter from sight. That was accompanied by a drawn out and whiney ‘hey!’ from Peter who banged once on the door for dramatic effect before disappearing into his own bedroom. 

The boy turned back into his room, making a beeline for his socks and underwear drawer. 

He was excited for this vacation. Things were finally starting to cool off after everything that went down with Skip. He didn’t know much about the legal system, or how police officers work, but his mom and Tony had been pretty excited when they announced that Skip would no longer be bothering them. 

They didn’t really answer questions, besides the ones where Skip did a bad thing and was getting punished accordingly. Or that both Peter and Harley did the right thing throughout the whole thing. 

It was finally time for some relaxation. The school year had ended, Harley would be off to sixth grade, and Peter off to the third grade. The hectic therapy schedules had dwindled down to a couple per month, and their parents and all Tony’s friends had finally started to relax, instead of being uptight constantly. 

Harley had been waiting for this. A whole week away. Nothing but his mom, Tony, Peter and the ocean. And, well, maybe some dolphins if Peter got his wish. 

Honestly, they all deserved a visit from some dolphins, especially after how hard the whole Skip thing had been for everyone. They all needed to get away from the house, from the school, from work, and from New York in general. 

Harley couldn’t wait. 

\---- 

It had been a week since Harley had come home to find Skip doing inappropriate things to Peter. The ten-year-old was so glad he’d decided to trust his gut when he thought something was off about Peter’s babysitter, as well as Peter’s attitude towards the babysitter. 

He was proud that he put a stop to it. It felt good that he’d seen what neither of their parents saw and helped the younger boy. He was proud that Peter no longer had to deal with his terrible, inappropriate babysitter. Peter seemed happy about it too. 

It had been a long week. A long, busy week. It was quite a way to start closing the school year for summer. A week long break just before the school would let out for summer vacation. 

Their parents had pulled them from classes for this week to sort everything out and take care of their ‘mental health’, or, at least from what Harley caught while he listened to his mom on the phone with the school office to excuse both him and Peter. 

Harley couldn’t find it in himself to be excited about not having to go to school while everyone else did. It wasn’t really the kind of break he wanted. He actually would’ve preferred to go to school, but he didn’t really have a choice. 

He supposed it made sense since the whole family had been busy the whole week; between visits with police officers, small gatherings of Peter and Tony’s friends and a few trips to different therapists throughout the week. 

His mom and Tony had jumped right into making sure both he and Peter had someone to talk to right from the morning after Harley had found Skip. He’d barely woken up before they were talking to them and explaining how they’d go for at least a couple sessions with a child psychiatrist. 

Harley wasn’t too interested in talking to anyone, but he did for his mom’s sake. He knew this was a traumatic event to take place, and he understood why their parents were so keen on him and Peter speaking to a professional, but Harley didn’t really think he needed it. 

It was probably more of a precaution, rather than a necessity. He knew his mom worried a lot sometimes, and Tony was probably no different. Plus, it was Tony’s kid to go through this. 

But honestly, Peter hadn’t seemed much different after they woke up the following morning either—not that Harley could really be much of a judge on that front. All Harley could be happy about was that Skip being gone seemed to bring back the snarky, bratty Peter he’d grown to like and bond with. 

Harley hadn’t felt much different after it either. Sure, he was sad it had happened to Peter. He’d been stressed as he phoned 911 for the first time in his life, and walking in on what he did was something he never wanted to do ever again. He was grossed out that the weird babysitter was disgusting and did bad things to Peter. 

Still, the two of them found themselves sitting in child psychologist waiting rooms sitting beside either parent. A lot of the week had been spent in waiting rooms. Or, talking with police officers. 

Not really how Harley would like to be spending his time away from school. 

\---- 

Neither Tony nor Pepper really knew how to go about the situation. Neither had had any idea what to do from the moment the police officers who’d sat with Peter and Harley until they arrived home excused themselves to leave the family be for the night. 

There wasn’t much they could do that evening. It was late, everyone was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The boys were both beyond tired; Harley was dozing off against Pepper’s side, and Peter was already out like a light where he was clutched in Tony’s arms with his face buried in the crook of Tony’s neck. 

There wasn’t much they could do besides hold their kids and wait to see what the morning held. It was the hardest thing putting the boys to bed—Peter especially because Tony really didn’t want to let him go. He hadn’t been there when Peter needed him, but he was now. 

He really couldn’t imagine putting his son down ever again in this moment. 

Pepper suggested him staying in Peter’s room for a while, and it wasn’t a bad idea seeing as Peter’s semiconscious grip on his shirt only seemed to tighten whenever Tony moved away a little. He managed to pull away long enough to change out of his suit and into pajamas, but when he returned, Peter cuddled right in. 

Tony stayed with his boy until very late, just watching him sleep. Peter’s evened out breaths calmed him. Seeing his boy safe and sound after knowing what that asshole had done to him was relieving in a sad kind of way Tony had never felt before. 

It wasn’t until the early AM’s that Pepper peeked into Peter’s bedroom and persuaded Tony to their own room to get a bit of sleep before the boys woke up and a new day started. They really didn’t end up sleeping, and instead spent most of the night talking. Serious conversation about just what the hell they were going to do. 

They did some research on their phone of psychologists and scoured website upon website and article upon article to hint even just a little of how they were supposed to handle something like this. 

Morning came much too soon, after maybe an hour and half after finally crashing. 

Despite being tired, they both got up and started on their morning routine. Trying desperately to keep the boy’s routine as regular as they could manage. They didn’t want the boy's everyday life too disrupted. Online recommendations suggested keeping it relatively the same for the boy’s sake. They needed the comfort of some normal in a messed-up time. 

To be fair, neither boy had woken up much different than any other morning when they woke up and stumbled down the stairs as they usually did. They were a bit tired, which Tony and Pepper knew would happen since they both didn’t really fall asleep until just before twelve. Far later than either was allowed to stay awake on even a weekend. 

They sat down to eat, ate their breakfast as usual and talked easily about Legos and video-game characters like they always did. Neither adult really had much to say, saving the serious talk until the boys were a bit more awake. Besides, they were both still reeling from the evening before. 

When the meal was finished, and after an hour or so of downtime, Tony and Pepper sat the boys down in the living room to explain what they had decided after the boys had been put to bed. 

Before Peter and Harley had woken up that morning, both adults had gotten into contact with a couple different child psychologists and picked one that seemed suited to handle this. They wanted to get the boys into therapy as soon as possible. 

And with the money and connections they had through Stark Industries, they managed to book a few sessions throughout the week on very short notice. But once again, the sooner the better. 

Even if the boys didn’t appear to be in distress as of now, that didn’t mean that they weren’t. And it was best to address this as soon as possible, rather than let It manifest. Better safe than sorry when it came to something serious like this. 

It would be a busy next little while they sorted through everything; took care of the legal portions of this (and attempted to put the asshole to do this behind bars) and made sure everyone was alright mentally. 

Pepper had suggested pulling the boys from school for the week while they figured everything out; between the police visits and the sessions planned randomly throughout the upcoming week. 

And if it weren’t enough just for the boy’s wellbeing, it would be disruptive to pull the boys from their classes every few days for whatever meeting they needed to get to. 

It was just easier to pull them for the week and take care of everything in that time, rather than spreading it out and making things harder—plus, they were young enough that missing a couple days wouldn’t impact their education too much. 

It was a joint decision that the boys needed just a bit of down time before returning to any stressors in their lives, like school. It would be insensitive to send them right off to school after something like this had happened. They needed a little time to just be before returning to their everyday life. 

But, besides that, they tried to keep the boy’s schedule as normal as possible, other than things they couldn’t change, like the therapy and the talks with child services and the police. 

After getting the boy’s appointments booked and taken care of as a first priority, Pepper suggested Tony book one or two sessions for himself as well. 

As much as he didn’t want to, Tony did just as she recommended by his girlfriend. 

He knew he needed to talk to someone. He needed someone he could rant to, and be self-deprecating to, but in a safe environment where the person knew what to say and how to diffuse him. He didn’t want to worry any of his friends, or Pepper over the things going on in his head. 

He needed to have someone who knew how to talk him out of his downward spiraling professionally. He loved his friends and Pepper, but they were all as clueless in all of this as he was. 

Everyone was out of their depth with the situation, and honestly, they needed a professional. They couldn’t tiptoe around the problem, and expect it to magically fix itself. They needed someone who’d dealt with this before. Who knew about what not only Peter was going through, but what Tony, Pepper and Harley as the boy’s family, were going through as well. Someone who knew the right things to say to make this a bit easier and console them where it was needed. 

Professional consolation, because Tony knew he needed that. Everyone could do with a little bit of professional consolation and someone to help them understand what they’re going through. 

He needed someone, who wasn’t related, or a close friend/ significant other, to tell him he hadn’t fucked up Peter’s life by allowing Skip to get as close as he had. He needed someone to tell him it wasn’t his fault that Peter went through what he did, even if Tony felt like there was more he could’ve done, noticed and protected his son from. 

Tony was beside himself that he’d allowed Skip control over his son. He was angry that he’d trusted the young adult so easily when it came to his little boy. How could he do that? How could he do that to Peter? 

He should’ve known something was wrong. 

Looking back now, he should’ve known. He should’ve acknowledged Peter’s pleas to not be left with the babysitter. He shouldn’t have passed it off as Peter’s usual separation anxiety. 

It had been more. 

It had been so much more, and Tony had been too clueless to see that. 

That bastard had touched his baby. Had put his filthy hands on his son, and Peter suffered because Tony had been stupid and hadn’t picked up on Peter’s subtle clues and actions. He’d dismissed it as separation anxiety, which really wasn’t out of the ordinary for Peter—but he still couldn’t help but feel that he should’ve known. 

As Peter’s father, he should’ve known. 

There really wasn’t any way to know, in reality. Not if Skip said nothing and Peter was manipulated into secrecy. Peter’s actions and emotions had been so, so similar to what he’d displayed only weeks earlier at the Stark Industries event. 

But still, Tony couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. Like he could’ve done more for Peter. Like he was a pretty shit father. He knew it wasn’t true. He was a pretty good dad. But it was hard to see the good through all the bad. And a professional would help him see the good. 

He _knew_ seeing someone in a professional setting would help him, like he prayed it would help his boys. A professional who dealt with things like this for their job. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he needed professional help. Being forced into growing up way to early, like he had been by his father, really messes with one's head. 

They all needed it. Sometimes you just couldn’t figure things out on your own, and at this point, they were far past being able to figure things out alone. They needed a professional’s help. This was just something that they really couldn’t do alone. No one could. 

It was a lot for Tony to process, and he couldn’t do it alone. And as much as he loved Pepper, she couldn’t help him like he needed in this specific scenario. Pepper was dealing with the same thing he was, but it was a little different. 

Peter was his baby, and he’d brought the assailant into Peter’s life, and entrusted the older to watch over his boy. Tony knew, to a degree that this happened. That sexual assault like this happened everywhere. It was a thing, it happened. It horrific, and it was disgusting, but he knew it happened. 

Tony just never in a million years thought it would’ve happened to himself, or least of all, Peter. He never thought of anything like this happening to his baby boy. But it did. It happened to them, and now they needed to deal with it before it consumed them. 

He, and everyone else to know and love Peter couldn’t let the anger consume them. They wouldn’t get anywhere kicking Skip’s ass and beating him to a pulp like Tony wanted too (and he knew, everyone; Steve, Bucky, Nat, Rhodey and Happy, all wanted to as well.) 

They needed to think about Peter. He needed to be everyone’s first priority, and they couldn’t do that from a jail cell. Karma would serve justice. Skip would have a hell of a hard time coming out of this unscathed. And... maybe somewhere down the line Tony could manage to get his hands on him, but for now, he had to put Peter first and push down the burning anger. 

\---- 

Peter could see everyone looking at him differently. He could see it easily. Everyone was looking at him like... like when he got pushed down at the playground and scraped his knees and hands. That look they all gave him when he cried as his dad bandaged his injuries. 

They were being nicer to him too, watching him closer. His dad, and Pepper, and Steve and Bucky—uncle Rhodey, who came back early from his military thing, uncle Happy and even Aunt Nat who drove all the way down to visit a few days after Harley had rescued him from Skip. 

And he liked it at first. He liked that everyone came, and cuddled him. Aunt Nat had squeezed him tight after she arrived to visit them and whispered soft things in Russian that Peter didn’t understand. He hugged her back, just enjoying being held by her. 

Steve and Bucky had visited the day after Skip ran away. They were watching over Peter and Harley while Peter’s dad and Pepper made phone calls and napped for a bit upstairs. They had a quiet movie day downstairs, where Peter spent most of his time being prompted to move between Steve and Bucky. 

He liked the attention; being cuddled against Bucky and Steve. Going between sitting in between the two, and being settled on either lap while a film played on the TV. Every Harley was sat beside Bucky, who he liked from garage. 

It was nice to just hang out with Steve and Bucky, and Harley too. Plus, Peter knew their parents needed a rest. They looked very tired. 

Peter got hugs from uncle Rhodey and uncle Happy, but they seemed more concerned over his dad, which Peter agreed was warranted. His dad looked sad, and mad, and a mix of a whole bunch of emotions Peter couldn’t place. 

They gave Peter attention, and then disappeared out with his dad to another room in the house, or the front or backyard to talk. And sometimes Pepper would tag along too. 

But by far, the one to need more contact with him, was his dad. Since everyone found out that Skip played weird games, Peter and his dad spent a lot of time cuddling. They curled up on the couch together, and Peter sat in his dad’s lap in the garage where he, his dad and Harley all tinkered around with things. 

He knew his dad stayed in his room with him until really late at night, not that Peter minded. He liked having his daddy in his room with him. 

Everyone looked sad, and mad, and they were just a little more in need of cuddles than they usually were. 

But as much as Peter liked the attention of his family, Peter didn’t like it why he was getting it. He didn’t like the sad looks, or how closely they watched, or how they asked him strange questions about Skip. He didn’t like how they had avoided touching him until he initiated contact (except his dad), how they didn’t want to get too close, until Peter did it first. 

It was weird. 

He didn’t like that he had to talk to some lady now. A lady who made him play with Legos and asked him questions and wrote things he said down, but never let him see what she wrote. He didn’t like how she and his dad, or she and Pepper talked in the corner of the room, where Peter couldn’t hear. 

Why couldn’t he listen too? Why did they get to see her papers, but Peter didn’t? 

He didn’t like the sad looks his dad or Pepper shot in his direction as the lady spoke to them, a solemn look on her own face. He didn’t understand it. 

Shouldn’t everyone be happy that Skip was gone? Happy that Peter didn’t have to watch the gross movies, or play Skip’s weird games? 

Peter was happy that someone had found Skip playing the weird games and watching the gross movies at their house, even if it had terrified him to have Harley storm into the house and start yelling at Skip. Honestly, so much had happened, so fast and Peter wasn’t even really sure what had gone down. 

He’d been shocked, and afraid, and then everyone started coming home, and the police officers were there and his dad and Pepper arrived home. And he was just so happy to see his dad, it was so nice to hug him. 

He’d been so scared that his dad would be upset, like Skip said he would-- but he wasn’t. His dad had hugged him tight, and Peter couldn’t help but cry. Harley was upset too, and everyone was sad and it was just a lot. 

His dad apologized a bunch, and Peter didn’t really know why—then he promised Peter would never have to see Skip again, and that he’d keep him safe. Peter never had to see Skip again, and he didn’t even have to tell anyone, so really, Skip couldn’t be mad at him. It all worked out, right? Harley had saved him from Skip’s adult games. 

No one seemed very happy Skip was gone though—well, maybe Harley. They all seemed sad. 

...Maybe not sad Skip was _gone_ , but sad about _something_. Especially his dad, who gave him a lot more hugs and cuddles. His dad was so sad, and Peter didn’t know why. 

Harley visited this lady as well, but at a different time. Harley didn’t seem to like talking to her much either. He never said he didn’t like going, but Peter could tell. He didn’t like going either. She asked too many questions, and she didn’t even have Lego sets, just plain Lego. 

Those aren’t as fun. 

\---- 

“Today’s session with Peter was very successful,” Tony and Pepper both looked towards where the boy’s new psychiatrist stopped in front of them and stood. If Tony turned his head slightly, he could still see his son clicking pieces of Legos together at a small table in the woman’s office. 

The small waiting room was empty, besides the two of them sat side-by-side. It was only twenty minutes into the hour-long session. 

“Was it?” Pepper questioned. 

“Yes,” the woman nodded, “he made real progress today, but he’s not interested in doing anymore talking today, which is totally normal. I know he refused to talk with the officers regarding what Mr. Wescott did to him, but he told me today.” 

“He did?” Tony breathed what was a mess of relief, guilt and remorse. Peter hadn’t told anyone what Skip did to him. He could only pray it wasn’t as vile as he was thinking. There had been no physical evidence, as he’d insisted on bathing Peter the day after everything regarding Skip came to light, but that really wasn’t anything to go off. 

Skip had babysat for months before this specific time. Had he always done vile things to his son? Had Peter been suffering in silence for months before Pepper and Harley came into his life? 

“How... how bad is it?” Pepper asked slowly. Her hand snaked out to grab Tony’s, squeezing lightly. 

The psychologist mulled over it for a moment, “compared to other cases I’ve seen, and other children going through anything along the lines, Peter is a very lucky little boy.” 

Tony choked on a breath, blinking back tears, “how so?” 

“When prompted, Peter insisted that nothing other than being forced into watching the pornography and the occasional touching on Mr Wescott’s behalf happened. As terrible as that in itself is, it’s also a huge relief. Worse things could’ve happened.” 

“That’s...” Pepper swallowed, squeezing Tony’s hand once more as a comforting gesture, “a relief...” 

“It is the best possible news, well, besides this whole thing not happening at all.” 

“So, Skip didn't...” 

“No,” the woman shook her head, giving Tony a small smile, “Skip never got the chance to advance anything further than he did. I believe Peter’s being honest in what he tells me. That makes Peter a very lucky boy, considering the circumstances.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Tony whispered to himself. He leaned forward to let his head fall to his knees, and Pepper’s hand landed on his back and rubbed a comforting line. 

“That said,” the woman continued, “I still do recommend that you keep assuring Peter that he’s safe at home. He may not appear afraid, but almost all children going through anything like this need to me assured they’re safe. Situations like this often take away a sense of control children have over their surroundings and it can also lessen the faith they have that adults will protect them. Thankfully, after speaking with Peter, it’s clear he still has total faith that the both of you, and Harley as well.” 

“That’s... good. That’s so good,” Tony breathed out. He didn’t know what he’d do if Peter no longer thought he could keep him safe. God, that would be terrible. How could Tony ever live with himself if his own son thought he couldn’t protect him. 

“As I've advised in our previous sessions, continue to listen for any cues Peter might let on to regarding his safety. Whether he feels safe or not about places or things. It’s the most you can do—besides continuing to assure him that what Mr Wescott did was bad, and that Peter himself is in no way to blame for any of it. Those things are important as Peter starts to understand just what happened to him.” 

“Okay,” Pepper nodded, more to herself. “We’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Please do,” the woman nodded. “Peter’s a lovely little boy. He’s already making such great progress. I have no doubt that he’ll only come out of this dark time stronger. He’s got a bright future ahead of him.” 

“He does,” Tony sniffled, “are you... is the session done for today?” 

“I think he’s shared enough for today,” the woman agreed with a small smile. “We can’t force him into sharing more than he's willing too. He's made great progress today.” 

“Perfect,” Tony sighed, straightening himself up on his seat. Then, a bit louder he continued, “c’mon, Pete,” he watched with a smile as his boy perked up, dropped his Lego creation to the table and scooted off the chair. 

“Comin’!” Peter chirped, running from the office and crashing into Tony’s legs as he and Pepper stood up. Tony ruffled a hand through his son’s hair, smiling fondly down at him. 

“Whaddya say we go pick up Harley from Miles’ house and then we get some ice-cream, eh?” 

“Yes!” Peter grinned, “from Scott’s ice-cream place. Vanilla ice-cream on a waffle with rainbow sprinkles!” 

“Sounds good Pete,” Tony couldn’t help but smile. 

\---- 

“He’s going to prison,” Tony whispered to Pepper as he wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped his chin onto her shoulder. The man had just arrived home from work, where a friend of his had joined him in his office for a bit of gossip. 

“Hm?” 

“Skip.” Tony clarified, unable to fight the smile on his face, “he’s going to prison.” 

“Really?” Pepper’s eyes sparkled as she turned her head to look Tony in the eyes, “this fast?” 

“This fast,” the man repeated with a satisfied grin, “he was brought into custody that night, as you know. Harley’s statement of the events he witnessed and what little we could get out of Peter had Skip behind county bars to await a trial. That’s anywhere from three years, to eight years in prison—I mean, we have a solid statement, so that works well in our favor.” 

“Eight years maximum? That asshole deserves more.” 

“Oh, I agree.” Tony shook his head, grimacing, “but, when he was taken into custody, the officers did a sweep of his bedroom and ceased his electronics and... well, they found very, very bad things on his computer.” 

“That sick bastard,” Pepper snarled, connecting the dots Tony laid out for her. “What the hell is wrong with that disgusting man.” 

“I know, I know,” Tony pressed a kiss to Pepper’s cheek, “he’s going away for a long time, sweetheart. They’re pushing up his court dates, and even the best lawyer money can buy can’t sweet talk their way around what was found on his laptop.” 

“And, how do you know all this?” 

“Rhodey has connections, my love.” the man laughed, nuzzling into Pepper’s neck, “Peter and Harley will never have to see that waste of space ever again. I think this call for a celebration and a bit of relaxation away from... here. And everything happening, don’t you?” 

“What kind of celebration?” Pepper raised an eyebrow, smiling lightly. 

“How about a vacation? You, me, Pete n’ Harls—we all need to get away for a bit.” The man paused, giving Pepper a small, fond smile, “we’ve got a small place in Malibu, whaddya think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if the beginning of this chapter was confusing, but jwriter819 had the amazing idea to start with it after pre-reading these chapters for me. We agreed that it helped the chapter flow a bit better. I can see it being confusing to start with that after last chapter, but believe me, it really helps the chapter flow. I am incredibly grateful for jwriter's help! These three chapters probably would've been scrapped without her assistance. I know I already thanked you on Tumblr (a bunch) but thank you once again! You were a huge help!
> 
> I didn't have anything planned with Peter's uncles and aunts, but after reading the comments, I added just mention of them. Not sure I did it justice, but I did read what you all had to say and I did try to adapt the fic to it. Thank you to those who've commented on these chapters (and all the others)! It means a lot! :D
> 
> Now, as I'm sure some of you have guessed, the next chapter will be a feel good vacation chapter. That was a lot of angst, and I really just want to write some good ol' fashion feel-good. I hope you guys have liked these angsty chapters (flaws and all), and are ready for things to return to normal for the Stark-Potts household.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not an update, but please read anyways!

Hey guys. 

I’m so sorry to those who’ve been waiting for a new chapter, and checking their emails for an update notification, but I guess you’ve noticed this isn’t an update—but if you could read it anyways, that would be awesome. 

I haven’t had to write one of these in forever, but I thought it would be better to let you guys know rather than to just not update for a while. 

I just wanted to tell you guys I’m going on hiatus on this fic—and this account for a while. 

I love IronDad and Marvel so much still, but this fic has been draining the life out of me. I’m sure a lot of you have noticed the updates slowing down, and I have friends who try to prompt me into writing, but I just stare at the Word document. 

This has been coming for a while, if I’m honest. But, it was really the comments from the last couple chapters to really put things into perspective. 

I do understand where everyone is coming from regarding the last couple chapters. I can see the points and emotions being expressed the in previous chapters comments. Everyone’s different opinions on what I wrote, and the way I wrote it. And that’s fine. Everyone’s allowed to have an opinion, and I absolutely love receiving comments from you guys. 

But do you guys know how much it sucks to put hours of your time into something, and spend hours talking with people and getting more opinions than your own so you don’t write it wrong, or offend people, only to get multiple comments of people being disappointed? 

Not gonna lie, it sucks a lot. 

Now, I actually liked the last couple chapters I wrote. I wanted to try something different, and I thought I did alright with it. I was proud of those chapters. I’d never written anything like that before, and I thought it flowed well, and that it was semi-realistic to the world I created and the characters I’ve been playing around with. 

Some people didn’t agree, and that’s fine. 

But, the thing you’ve got to remember is, I started this fic for myself. To write something I didn’t feel completely comfortable writing-- to better my own work and break myself from what I usually wrote. To work on aspects of my writing that I don't explore, or that I need to touch up on. I said at the way beginning of this story that I was writing for myself, and if you guys liked it as well, that was great. And I'm so thankful so many of you liked it, you've all be so kind.

I do this for free because I loved to write it. I loved to alter chapters to fit your guy’s suggestions and requests for things you guys want to see in the fic. I just like making people happy. Seeing that something I wrote made someone smile, or laugh. 

But recently I haven’t loved to write. Not for this fandom right now. Maybe it's just my anxiety, or the pandemic, or just because I need a break. 

When I can’t even log into this account because of the pit of anxiety I have about seeing comments of people hating the chapters and being disappointed in me, it’s time to take a step back for a while. (Also, apologies to the friends I messaged in a panic after posting the last chapter, but thanks for being awesome about it. You know who you are.) 

When I started this fic, I really didn't think it would be as popular as it is, which is why I really hate to disappoint you guys. 

I’ve thought long and hard about this since the last chapter was published—but I’m not going to force myself to write something that I won’t really invested in, or proud of, just for the sake of keeping going. It’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to you guys who’ve been reading along for months. 

NOW, all that said. I will be back. I’m not abandoning anything. I’m simply taking a step back to work on some different, smaller fandoms on a different account. I need to sort myself out and get my head back into the IronDad fandom game. I’ll still be writing this fic when I feel motivated to do so, I just won’t post again until I have a couple chapters ready to go and I’m not struggling to keep up. 

I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for. Hopefully not long, but I can’t make any promises. 

I do understand if some of you leave. That’s fine. I understand. No harm, no fowl. It’s your call. I’m thankful to everyone who supported me along the way, and for all the nice comments people wrote me. I adore them all. 

I’ll be logging off this account for a while after posting this note, so I probably won’t see any comments (if there are any) left on this right away. But you can still reach me on Tumblr if you want a quick response. 

If you want to stick around and wait, I appreciate it. And I’ll see you next update, when it happens. 

If not, well, thanks for reading along and I hope you liked most of it. 

Sorry once more, but I just really need a break. Sorry this is so long, but I wanted to explain my reasoning a bit. Thanks if you read this whole note, kudos to you, reader! 

I hope you guys can forgive after leaving this fic for a while right after the last couple chapters, but nothing I post when my heart's not into it is ever very good. Now, I’ll see you guys in the next update.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments would be greatly appreciated! Lemme know why you guys think? 
> 
> Also! I'm @boww-tiez on Tumblr if you wanna talk! HMU, always looking to make some new Marvel/ writer friends! <3


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